Sincerity Cowboy
by seventhe
Summary: Irvine, the "odd one out", was the only one who remembered the past. Now he must decide what - and who - he wants in his future. How will his precious memories affect everyone else? [Completed]
1. One: citrus and sunshine

  
  
  
  


Sincerity Cowboy

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_FFVIII, in my opinion, created a bunch of fantastic characters and then left them all in the dust. All of the characters that travel together in the game were abandoned in favor of the love story between Squall and Rinoa - leaving a horrible amount of potential development ...well, undeveloped. The ideas in this story leapt into my head late one night and wouldn't let go until I began writing. It focuses on my current "favorite" character, and if you can't tell who it's about from the title, you probably need to play more video games._

  
  


_It's more of an introspective piece than an actual tale with a plot-line. I wanted to shed some light into the characters that, in my opinion, Square "missed" in their development (no offense to the game, I guess). Most likely this will end up being horribly romantic as well. Thoughts and memories - those are the focus in this story._

  
  


_Enjoy._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Chapter One

  
  
  
  


She had taken his hat.

Irvine lay in the grass outside Balamb Garden, newly replanted in its old foundation after its voyage ended. Squall - Commander Squall, the new official headmaster of Balamb - had recruited a couple of the brains from Fisherman's to reinstall Garden in its place. No need for giant soaring battle-stations in this tenuous time of peace. Galbadia had been rerooted as well. Both of them had been repaired, too. It had been about three weeks since the sorceress had been defeated. A week since their party.

He was leaning into the cusp of a hill, twirling the black hat around on his index finger. He missed the presence of his old shotgun beside him; it was in his room, in its special case, having a well-deserved rest. But the weapon was special to Irvine, and he was experiencing an odd kind of loneliness, the slight sense of missing something important, wanting to touch - 

_No, it's not the gun at all._

He let his hat come to a rest and stared at it, nonchalantly dangling from his finger as if it were only an innocent hat. It had been a coveted ally, yes, but it was also a sort of a traitor. A traitor to the wall Irvine had built around his heart. 

She had taken his hat. Tucked it on her head with that brilliant smile. Struck a pose for everyone to see. And in that instant - oh, that one moment - she had been his and he had been hers, illuminated through the camera lens, perfection and completion. Fate.

He had nearly dropped her camera.

But then she turned to Quistis, sharing that winning smile like she always did; Quistis looked up at Irvine with her knowing eyes, but he had already hidden his face behind the camera, a wall to obstruct her scrutiny. And the moment passed. He had managed to regain his composure, give a wave to some girls on the other side of the room, tease Zell about his hot dogs and his shy librarian. Piece by piece he reconstructed his pierced heart.

And finally he collected enough strength to look at her again.

Selphie. In his hat. So adorable. Her face was shining with the happiness of being surrounded by safety and friends. She tipped it forward in an obvious imitation of his style, giving him a wink. His heart could have stopped; but he merely stood there, giving her his trademark smirk. 

She had given the hat back at the end of the night. It smelled of citrus and sunshine.

Irvine sighed and casually placed the hat back on his head, careful to hide his face with the broad rim. With his suede pants and long jacket trimmed in fur, he was unmistakable; but maybe people would think he was sleeping. 

People. What people? He was outside the Garden, and it was morning. Everyone was back to business. Things were moving along nicely. Quickly. A little too quickly for Irvine Kinneas.

Beneath the blackness of his hat he heard the sound of tire on gravel; a car screeched to a stop somewhere near him. "Hey, Irvine," a voice called out. Familiar. "Hey, cowboy!"

He tipped up his hat in greeting and gave the speaker - a lovely blonde in a hot red car - a slow smile. "Mornin', Q. Where are you off to?"

Quistis lowered her tinted driving glasses and smiled. "Balamb proper," she offered. "Supplies for Doctor Kadowaki. My shift, I'm afraid. Hop in?"

Irvine stood, brushing the grass from his long coat. Adjusting his hat to the proper angle, he sauntered over to the car and slid into the passenger seat. Quistis revved the engine and took off.

"You looked lonely," she suggested over the sound of the wind in the air.

"Life's empty without the ladies around," Irvine offered. "Finally my day is starting to look up. First thing in the morning and I'm hitchin' a ride with one sexy blonde."

Quistis scoffed, turning the wheel. "I'm sure you're never lonely in that aspect," she said sarcastically. "You've assured us thousands of times about your ...favor."

Irvine leaned back, putting his hands behind his head. "Hey, when you're good, you're good."

"A real ladies' man." Quistis smiled at the road. "I've never really known one of you."

"Your first experience with a charming gentleman?" They made the turn around the road and pulled the car into Balamb's station. Irvine hopped out and watched as Quistis grabbed a sheet of paper and locked the doors.

She shrugged. "Squall was always too cold, and now that he's not cold he's ...taken. And Zell wouldn't know a girl if one struck his over the head with a hot dog." A smile spread across Irvine's face and Quistis crossed her arms. "Not that I'm particularly charmed, Irvine dear. I'm just amused by your efforts."

His eyebrows arched in surprise, but the smile stayed. "Not charmed? I'm going to have to work harder on you, Instructor Trepe." They strolled gently down the road toward the train station, nodding at familiar townsfolk. 

Quistis laughed. "No, you won't," she said, a real smile spreading across her face. "It's not going to get you anywhere, Irvy. Your best bet is to concentrate your efforts elsewhere..."

"I can't take defeat, Quisty," Irvine teased. "I can't take no for an answer. Especially from you. Beautiful Quistis..."

"Oh, stop," she said, slugging him in the arm. He feigned injury; she haughtily turned her back on him and handed the sheet to the lady at the counter of the Item Shop. "Supplies on the Kadowaki account," she said briskly, with a smile. The shopkeeper nodded familiarly and headed for the stockroom.

Irvine sauntered up to the counter and leaned on it suavely, giving Quistis that teasing smile again. "Oh, stop it already, Irvine," she said, exasperated. "Save it for Selphie. She appreciates it."

_Citrus. _ He froze, and then casually brushed a piece of hair from his face. "So like, you didn't pick me up in the car to whisk me away to your office and have an affair, then?"

"Was that the best cover-up you could think of?" she said wittily, her eyes fixed on the ocean behind him. Her lips turned upward slightly. "I saw you react. Don't think you guys can hide it from me. I'm smarter than you think."

"I only have eyes for you, Quistis."

"Irvine, I'm her best friend. Stop teasing me and give me a bloody answer."

"I didn't hear a question."

"The question is Selphie."

Irvine sighed. _The question has always been Selphie._

Quistis waited, staring at him, and then sighed. "If you're not going to talk to me now, I could beat it out of you," she offered.

"Quistis, there is nothing between Selphie and I that you don't know about," Irvine offered finally, at which Quistis snorted.

"I'm pretty sure that's a lie," she said. "I know some things that I shouldn't."

"Well, then, like I said," Irvine said finally, her scrutiny making him uncomfortable. "You know all there is to know."

"You're a jerk," she said lightly.

"Bossy little Quisty," he said. "Should've been nosy little Quisty."

"Hey," she said, raising her hands against his attack. "I'm looking out for her."

"And I'm not?"

Quistis paused at that, giving Irvine a very funny look, at which point the woman from the Item Shop returned; she was struggling with a large, heavy crate which Irvine quickly took off her hands with a smooth gesture and a tip of his hat. The storekeeper blushed. Quistis reached out to snag the proffered pen and hastily scribbled her signature at the bottom of the bill.

"These go to the Kadowaki account, under Balamb Garden," she reminded the woman.

The shopkeeper gave a brisk nod. "Already done, ma'am. Good morning."

"Good morning," Quistis said with a ready smile, and then turned to take the second box - but Irvine had already grabbed it, balanced it carefully atop the first crate, and left for the car.

Quistis caught up to him easily; he was being cautious with the medical supplies. "A real gentleman," she remarked, eyeing the stack of boxes and flashing Irvine a grin. "So you're not all talk."

"Just trying to impress you, Q," Irvine responded conversationally. "Any chance of it working?"

"If you mean seduce, that's a no," she said, laughter in her eyes. "But impress?" Her gaze rested on the boxes again, and then flicked back to Irvine's face. "Perhaps," she admitted with a smile, and hurried ahead to unlock the trunk.

Quistis dropped him off at the Garden's front gate as she went around to park the car; he gave her a friendly tip of his cowboy hat. Funny how things turned out, it was. Quistis was the last person he had expected to be running errands for the medic wing. She, Zell, and Selphie were taking their Instructor Certifications together later in the week (well, Quistis was about to re-take hers, and they were all sure it would show in the scores) in the hopes that they could be instated as professors at Balamb for the time being. Selphie was toying between Balamb and a new-born Trabia, of course, but she had wanted to take the certification with her friends. Quistis was planning on picking up right where she left off - going back to what she was best at, namely bossing people around. But she knew how to mold a SeeD student, and Squall had made it known that there was a place for all of them. 

Funny how things turned out, indeed. Squall had been promoted, of course, and his place as Commander of Balamb Garden remained. Headmaster Cid was still in charge on paper; but the recovery of his Edea was obviously much more attractive to him than the recovery of a giant flying fortress; and so to Edea he went, quite often, to Squall's discontent. Moreover, the Kramers were attempting to form a council involving Garden officials (past and current, though not _past_ in the sense that Ellone would be required) to facilitate moving forward in this time of confusion and need. This of course kept them very busy. Which made Squall Leonheart the acting Headmaster of the new Balamb. And this made Squall very unhappy.

What did make Squall happy, however, was that Rinoa was there. Rinoa was unable to partake in the SeeD exam due to the one small problem that she was, in fact, a sorceress, and SeeD were meant to _defeat_ the sorceress. This did not bode well for her and she was currently up to her ears in research defending the point that there would _be_ no more sorceresses, ever again, and so it didn't really matter and couldn't she just take the exam. What it all boiled down to was that Rinoa Heartilly was residing in Balamb Garden for the time being. And what made _her_ happy was that Squall could finally admit to happiness. 

Very funny, perhaps. Irvine himself had been awarded his SeeD certification after the whole ordeal; Cid had gathered with some of his Instructors from Galbadia. Between themselves it was decided that the whole Time-Compression thing had been enough of a field exam. So Irvine was finally a SeeD, with a particularly gracious rank. And this - as Quistis and Selphie liked to remind him - meant he was eligible for other certifications as well, including Instructorship. 

But Irvine was a drifter, and he had been putting off the decision for quite some time. He had been putting off any decisions. And it had become increasingly difficult for him to think of anything ever since his faithful cowboy hat had betrayed him for citrus and sunshine.

Squall had offered him a position training a special rifle team if he would take the cert. Balamb was going to welcome him with open arms. He could work with his friends and hope to protect the people he cared about.

He had never thought he cared. But time-compression, among the other events, had proven otherwise. It would seem that he cared all too much.

And what made Irvine happy?

_Citrus._

"The dust of the road," he muttered, and headed into the Garden. He would go back inside and - what? Read a book? He could go to the library, flirt around, make waves with Zell's librarian-princess. He could head to the cafeteria, hope his smile could win him something a little better than hot dogs. He could go up and grab his precious gun, head for the TC and blow some steam...

_Blow some steam?_

Quistis had gotten under his skin again.

Or he could head to the Quad and ...hang out. Yes. Perhaps take a little nap.

Irvine headed into the Garden. With the work the students were putting into it you could never tell that it had been used as a battering ram of an airship. It was shining and new, better than it had ever looked. All over, new students and experienced SeeD had bonded together to rebuild their Balamb Garden into what it once was. With the guidance of the engineers from Fisherman's and the materials supplied from the new trust fund, the work force had turned the Garden over in no time. And the pride could be seen in their faces, easily.

Irvine took a seat in the Quad, giving a smile and a hat-tip to a group of girls, who giggled at him. He was well-known in the Garden; the "Galbadian Cowboy," the "best shooter in Garden," the man who had taken a potshot at the Sorceress. No one knew about his failure; the only story they knew was that the Sorceress had blocked his shot with her magic, forcing a direct confrontation. All they knew was the facade, the ponytail and the silly hat, the cool demeanor. They didn't know anything about the fear that gripped, the sweat and the stress that filled the bones. They didn't really know that the order given had been: _Assassinate your mother._ Take out the only woman who ever cared for you like her own son. No one had known of those last final moments when he had come to face a truth that Squall did not even remember. And he was glad for that.

He lay down again, stretching across the bench on his back, staring up at the glass ceiling, knees bent. He raised his hand to his face, looking at his long, worn fingers extending from the fingerless gloves he wore. Then he set the cowboy hat over his face and sighed, thinking only of another nap.

He hadn't been sleeping well.

  
  
  
  


Selphie looked around to make sure no one was around, then had a private moment of desolation and despair.

Burying her head in her hands, she let out a long sigh. Between her Instructor training and certification and the preparations for the next Garden festival, she had been busier than Zell in the cafeteria. No time for her friends, other than Quistis, whom she had studied with. No time for herself. No time for sleep, even. 

But the trial was the next day, and then that nightmare would be over. She was pretty sure she would pass, and she knew that no matter her score, Squall had promised her some sort of position here. That in itself made staying at Balamb much more attractive of an option.

Trabia. She should have been more excited to return, but it had only been a place to stay, a place to train. There had been nothing like a home since she was taken from the Kramer's orphanage-home so long ago. She had friends there, yes; but she had friends here, friends she had known since childhood, even if she had forgotten it. She sighed. _I guess the entire GF-memory crisis has been very violently proven._

But out of all of them, no one had left yet. Squall, Quistis, Zell. Even Rinoa. They were all lingering in Balamb indefinitely. Shouldn't someone head out? "Share the wealth"? Spread the lessons learned in the second Sorceress War to the other Gardens? Help begin training forces to keep peace instead of breed war?

She just couldn't.

She heard a noise at the door and perked up instantly. Quistis's head poked in, long blond hair falling across her tinted glasses. "Back," she offered. "Need anything?"

Selphie smiled at her friend. Quistis had taken the entire episode as a lesson (being remembered as "bossy little Quisty" by Irvine hadn't helped) and was trying in her own way to open up to people and not seem so forbidding. So far, the only ones she had really opened up to were the gang, the people who had traveled together and fought the Sorceress. But at least she was trying.

"Nah," she said, trying to summon forth her cheerful demeanor. "I'm almost done here."

"Fee, you've been studying forever," Quistis said. "The exam's tomorrow. Take a rest." She walked over and closed the book in front of Selphie. "I, Quistis Trepe, declare you done with studying." Selphie's eyes met hers uncertainly and she sighed. "Really, Fee. Go take a nap or something."

"Can't," Selphie said, standing up and stretching. "I have to go check on the Festival preparations. It's in two weeks, you know."

Quistis brought her hand to her forehead in Squall's familiar gesture. "Selphie, you need to take a break. Promise me after you go check things out you'll go relax somewhere."

"Yes, ma'am," Selphie said tartly as she stuck her books in her bag.

"You're such a bother," Quistis said. "And you should leave that one book here, I want to read it over too."

Selphie stuck her tongue out. "The truth's out, Q - you only want me to leave so you can study again!"

Quistis sighed. "They're going to be harder on me than you," she admitted. "I had this cert once before and they took it away."

"Good thing they did," Selphie said passionately. "We needed you more."

"Why are you still here?" Quistis murmured with a smile as she turned a page. "You should be napping."

"Nah." Selphie took a deep breath and exhaled with a smile matching her friend's. "I should be productive!"

"Twenty minutes," Quistis said. "I'm coming to check on you. I'll put your ass in bed if you don't."

"Oh, so scared," Selphie said, and ducked out of the room as Quistis tossed a pencil at her.

She adjusted the bag on her shoulder and headed down to the Quad. Her compatriots were in the construction room at this very minute; they had excused her for her other obligation, but she didn't want to shirk any of her duties here. But then as she turned the corner she saw a familiar figure lying across a bench. Tawny jacket, trimmed in fur, hanging over the edge. Suede chaps. Black fingerless gloves, crossed over his chest. Tell-tale ponytail dripping off the edge of the bench. Handsome face hidden beneath a black cowboy hat.

_Irvine._

More than anything she had ever wanted, Selphie wanted to remember Irvine Kinneas. She couldn't quite put her finger on it. Maybe it was in the way he looked at her. Or it was the way her heart pounded when she looked at him. Bits and pieces had come back, but not everything. She had even secretly un-junctioned all of her GFs, a fact that would have shocked any well-trained SeeD. She still had them - close to her person in case of emergencies - but she was frustrated beyond belief. Memories couldn't - they wouldn't - just vanish, would they?

A smirk spread across her face as she looked at him, lost peacefully in the little dreamworld inside his black hat. _So peaceful._ With three brisk steps she crossed the courtyard, got a good grip on the hat, and then in one smooth motion, whipped it away from his face.

His eyes were open beneath it, bright blue orbs which fixed on her face.

"It's an angel," he said smoothly, a smile spreading across his face; regaining her composure, she tucked the hat neatly onto her head, returning the smile. 

"How long have you been saving that one up?" she asked, a knowing glint coming into her eyes. "I bet the first girl who picked up your hat was gonna get that, no matter what."

"Oh, Selphie, you break my heart," he said, sitting upright. "You know I only have eyes for you."

She giggled. "Sure thing, Irvine." He made a pass for the hat, but she hopped out of the way, tucking it down neatly around her head. "Sure thing."

"What's a lovely lady like you doing down here?" he continued. Selphie couldn't help but smile. Irvine had always laid on the charm, day after day, since the first day they had met - or, really, re-met. The flirtatious gunner. The Galbadian Cowboy. Her childhood friend.

"Oh, thanks for reminding me, I have to go now - thanks for the hat!" She gave him a grin and left, hastily walking toward the staircase.

She heard the clicking of his cowboy boots behind her and suppressed a smile. _Wait..._ At just the right moment, she ducked, and Irvine ended up swinging wildly in the air.

She burst out giggling, unfortunately, for she was then unable to defend against the attack. Irvine settled the black hat on his head again, tilting it at just the right angle. He looked at her and raised an eyebrow, his lips curving upward. 

_You're gorgeous,_ she wanted to say, but the words wouldn't come out; "It's crooked," she finally offered. Irvine pursed his lips, curious, as if to say _Really?_ "Here," she offered, "let me fix it." She reached out, tweaked it a little, and then nabbed the hat again.

This time she took off at a run, hearing Irvine's normally slow voice barking out a "Hey! Seff..." and then the sound of his boots again. She was laughing. Without any junctioned speed she knew she had no advantage, but if she could get past the corner -

Strong arms grabbed her from behind and spun her in the air; she reached up to hold the hat firmly to her head, squealing. "Vinny! Put me down!" She heard the sound of his good-natured laughter behind her as he simply picked up the tempo, spinning her in a giant circle. 

"Alright, _alright!_" she shrieked, laughing. "I give up! Vinny, I'm gonna _puke!_"

Still holding her tight, he slowed the spin, but as he released her she heard his drawl prompting: "Aaaand?"

She turned around and, with a wink, tucked the hat back onto his head at the angle she secretly liked best. "There," she said firmly. "Now I really do have to go."

"No you don't." He gave her his best, most-practiced smile, determined to keep her. _Citrus... _"You're the sunshine in the room," he said dramatically, reaching out to put his arm around her. "Stay and talk with me."

Selphie sighed. "Irvine, dear, I'd love to, but I have to hit up this Committee meeting first. And then Quistis made me promise to take a nap." She made a face. "I haven't been sleeping much, I guess, but still."

A broad smile spread across Irvine's face. "Well, my nap was interrupted," he said, his eyes sparkling. "You go to your meeting and then we can take a little nap together. My place, perhaps?"

Selphie was caught completely off-guard. "You're teasing me again, Irvine," she said, trying to hide her discomfort with a silly smile. She looked into his eyes and gave her best imitation of a heart-broken sigh. "When will you ever take me seriously?"

"The day you take me seriously, Seff," he said, but the sparkle was still in his eyes. "I'll be in my room if you change your mind." He tipped his hat at her and turned around, jacket flaring. She watched him walk away, tilting his hat at another girl who walked past. The girl flushed, and then noticed Selphie staring; both of them turned red.

_Why does he tease me like that?_ Selphie didn't quite know what to say. Irvine Kinneas, the ladies' man; he was so genuine with what he said that she had to remind herself so many times that this was her _friend._ Maybe it was just habit for him? She had never had anyone treat her quite like that. But she knew - she _knew_. He was like that to everyone. He just ...he didn't know that it made her so uncomfortable. He didn't have to practice his lines on her. She just wasn't used to it.

_Irvine._ She turned around once more, but he was gone, lost in the crowd of students. 

_What can't I remember about you?_


	2. Two: second floor balcony

  
  


Chapter Two

  
  
  
  


Morning dawned, bright and early, light streaming through the Balamb windows. The air was thick with it. Sunshine. Promises. Every morning had been like this since they'd returned.

But Irvine Kinneas still wasn't sleeping well.

He wished he could have blamed it on the weather, but that was impossible. Nothing but sunshine and blue skies - what a cowboy liked best. And this way Irvine was up early, early enough to watch the sun come up from his favorite vantage point in the Garden. He slipped out onto the small overlook on Balamb's second floor - the one they had used as an exit, back when the Garden was flying. 

Now Balamb was stationary. It was just a small balcony. And Irvine wasn't sleeping.

Instead of approaching the railing and hanging over (as he had seen Rinoa do a couple times), Irvine chose to stand back in the shadows, leaning against Garden's cool outer wall. It was peaceful out here, and quiet. Solitude for a sniper. A limited range for a lonesome cowboy.

He realized his hand was clenching air and he forced it to relax. _Misses the presence of a cool, smooth barrel,_ he thought with a smile. But that wasn't quite it; he could easily have picked up his rifle on the way down. _Must miss a woman's touch, then._ He smirked to the morning air.

What a fool he was. All of his life he had been trying to fill this void - fill it up with manliness, guns and ammo, women and girls. But for all of his womanizing, he was still a loner. Still alone. And he could have made himself content with the lonesome road. But then his trusty hat - his own symbol - betrayed him for a whiff of citrus and sunshine. Opened the door to a possibility. An option Irvine had turned his back on long ago.

_Play it cool._

And so he had. His life in Garden had been lonely, after the friendliness of the Kramer's orphanage, and so he had played it cool. Fooled around with guns. Fooled around with women. Fooled himself into thinking that childhood was made of dreams and fairy-tales. Fooled himself into thinking he had forgotten.

Then he read the names on the list presented to him along with his mission: _Squall Leonhart. Quistis Trepe. Zell Dincht._ And at the very end, the one that stopped his beating heart: _Selphie Tilmett._ He had never known their last names - he assumed they weren't real last names. But none of them had common first names. And all four of them? Together? It had to be fate. 

_Fate. That's what I told her._

But she hadn't known then, hadn't remembered anything, and though he saw the usual reaction in her eyes he knew it didn't mean what he wanted. It was the typical reaction of a woman struggling under the Kinneas charm. It wasn't the reaction of his Selphie remembering who he was. And so he left. There was so much pressure.

And it cracked him. It always cracked him.

The sun was coming up now, gracing the distant ocean with sparkles and light. Another sunrise for another glorious day. Irvine smirked again. He could never get over the sight of the sun coming up. There was too much of the wild in him, too much cowboy. It was the only religion he had ever known - sunshine pouring down over a green hill, a couple birds, and a breeze in his face. Nature made Irvine Kinneas respectful.

He had kissed her, once.

It was way back at Fisherman's Horizon, before anyone knew the terrible and wonderful secrets about the past. The night of Squall's promotion. He had helped Selphie put together her big surprise - helped all day, in fact. Set everything up with the mechanics from the island community. Put together the music. It had been his project as much as everything. But it wasn't the party he was working on - it was Selphie. Her excitement was his reward - her smile, his prize.

He remembered thinking, _I'm so brilliant._

And it all came together: Rinoa dragged Squall out of his room, and Irvine managed to joke a smile out of him with his naughty magazine, and then he and Selphie had run down the long long staircase into FH, giggling with their secret, while Squall and Rinoa fought at the top. And she had been so excited and nervous and thrilled and beautiful that on the way down he just grabbed her and kissed her right there. Underneath the stars and the moon in the middle of the ocean. Horribly romantic. And she had just looked at him with those wide-open childlike eyes and he had almost confessed everything right there, everything about Matron and the orphanage and the past and the present. But then they heard Rinoa laughing behind them and Selphie gasped and grabbed his hand, hurrying him back to the stage. They didn't get a chance to talk about anything that night. It was devoted entirely to Squall. 

And from how she acted now, she had forgotten it. Like she had forgotten everything.

He couldn't blame her; couldn't blame anyone. It was the price to pay for the power they'd used and the battles they'd won. But it hurt, dammit, to be the odd one out yet again. To be left behind again. He could tell that she hadn't remembered by the curious looks she threw him. Observant, he was. Had to be.

And she thought he was joking.

Yes, he teased, and he flirted, with everyone in a ten-foot radius (including Quistis, who was no one's idea of a flirt at all), but Selphie - she was different. It was a childhood romance that grew up in fairy-tale land; it never should have seen the light of day. The second he had seen her, alive, grown into such a lovely ray of sunshine, he knew: childhood came back and tied him up by his thumbs. His swagger, his smirk, the tip of his hat - everything was for her. There was no turning back. She had been the fantasy for so many years, the driving force behind the loneliness and the bullets and the booze. Selphie was the ideal. And having her before him in the flesh was enough to drive a cowboy mad.

Irvine had lived for so long by convincing himself that dreams were for fools and that happiness was an elusive demon that only taunted and never delivered. He had forced himself to live for the moment, in a time when nothing else mattered but the target. He concentrated only on what he saw in his sights - whether it was a woman or an enemy. It was making the shot, meeting the goal. And then moving on. Choosing another one. The next target.

The story of his life. Line up the sights, make the hit, reload. Shoot, hit, reload. 

The wink and the gun. He was a cowboy.

He tucked his hands into the pockets of his long suede coat, squinting in the bright sunlight. Today was the big day - everyone was applying for Instructorship. It was widely known that they all would pass - actual battle experience as well as the important intimacy with sorceresses and their defeat was enough proof for anyone. But Selphie and Zell hadn't just wanted their certificates handed over. They'd wanted to earn it. And so they were taking the test.

Strange thing was, they'd been the ones who had urged him to accept his SeeD certification when the council had awarded it to him. They insisted he'd earned everything and more. And so he'd taken it. It hadn't really mattered to Irvine. But Selphie and Zell and Quistis and even Squall had demanded. And with everyone ganging up on him he just gave in with a wink and a smile. Accepted the title and the validation.

SeeD had been a dream, but it hadn't been the _real_ dream.

He closed his eyes for a second, tipping his head back to rest it against the wall of Balamb Garden. Rest. He felt unbalanced, perhaps. Drifting. The aimless wandering of a cowboy with a dream and no destination. So often in his life there had been no choice for him. Now, again, there was no choice, for there were too many choices. None of them real enough. All of them drifting like snowflakes.

And no one saw it. The turmoil behind the facade. The secrets behind the smile. It was all getting worse. Quistis was beginning to suspect something; she was smart, and observant. And Selphie, his Seff, she knew; but she kept forgetting, or misplacing it. She knew him better than anyone had ever known him. And she didn't even know.

He opened his eyes and slipped back inside. The day had to begin somehow.

  
  
  
  
  
  


_Knock. Knock-knock._

Selphie groaned. "I'm up," she said, but it was more of a grunt. She trudged over, unlocked the door, and headed back to her bathroom.

Quistis let herself in, dressed primly in her SeeD uniform, shining hair pulled away from her face in her perfect bun. Quistis was perfection personified, Selphie thought sourly, especially in the mornings. She ran a brush through her wet hair and straightened her jacket.

"A-ha. I've found your secret," Quistis said, her tall frame leaning against the doorframe. "Mornings are your weakness."

"Nobody can be chipper in the mornings," Selphie groaned. "Not after a week like mine. Give me one good night of sleep and I'll show you."

"I'm sure you will," Quistis replied, her slow smile spreading across her face.

Selphie suddenly swore. "Where are my bloody shoes, Q?" She dove under the couch frantically, exhaustion forgotten. "I can't find my stupid ...hold on." She escaped into the bathroom.

Quistis heard a soft knocking against the door where she was resting her weight. She straightened and opened the door, saying quietly; "Zell, you'll have to hold on, Fee can't find her..."

A handsome man in a cowboy hat stood there holding a cafeteria tray. Three donuts rested on a plate along with three tall cups of coffee.

Quistis's jaw dropped. 

"Mornin', Quistis," Irvine said, letting himself in smoothly and shutting the door. "Thought I'd stop by and check on my two favorite ladies. I reckon you haven't eaten yet?"

He set the tray down on Selphie's table and sat on the couch, leaning back into it as if he belonged there. Relaxed and confident. Quistis, disbelieving, reached forward and nabbed the nearest coffee. It was fresh from the cafeteria.

She took a long sip and sighed; coffee was as close as she came to an addiction, and what a strong addiction it would have been. "Bless you, Irvine," she went to say, but a stream of curses echoed from the bathroom.

Irvine covered a smile. "So like," he said, turning to Quistis, "Selphie's ...er ...dressed and all, right?"

Quistis smoothly took another sip of the coffee. "Sorry to disappoint you," she said with a smirk.

Irvine laughed. "I'll just have to keep bringing breakfast. One of these times I'll be sure to catch her in the shower, and then I can make my move."

"You're so brilliant," Quistis said, mocking his favorite phrase.

There was a loud rustle, and then Selphie leapt into the room, outfit complete, and struck a pose. "How do I look?" she asked breathlessly.

"Absolutely beautiful," Irvine said, not missing a beat.

Selphie almost fell over. "What the ...?" She blinked, regaining her balance, absently adjusting one of her shoes. "What are ...Irvine?"

The smile spread. "The cowboy has brought us breakfast," Quistis said. "I let him in since he had food."

"I'm just trying to score points with you two," Irvine said, reaching forward to take the last coffee.

"Score something," Quistis muttered under her breath.

"Mmm, these are good!" Selphie broke off a piece of her donut and dunked it in her coffee. "Are they from the cafeteria?"

Irvine nodded. "The first batch," he said proudly. "I'll bring them every morning if I can only see your beautiful face."

"Irvy," Selphie scolded, at which he pouted.

"I only have eyes for you, Selphie," he began again, and Quistis snorted.

"Didn't you tell me that yesterday?"

Irvine smiled at her. "That I only have eyes for Selphie? I didn't know you were listening, Quisty."

"I'll spill my coffee on you."

"Quistis broke my heart," Irvine said, scooting closer on the couch next to Selphie. "But it only made me realize how much I care for you, darlin'. C'mon..."

Selphie touched him on the nose with her donut, leaving a spot of powdered sugar at the tip. "You," she said emphatically, stabbing with the donut for good measure, "are a pain."

"Ahh." Irvine sighed and leaned back into the couch again. "Sweet words of love."

He was so glad Quistis had been there. The idea had presented itself as he was returning to his dorm, past the cafeteria. He had grabbed enough for all three - Q, Seff, and Zell - just in case. But he had been so nervous he had almost dropped the tray and given up. _Irvine Kinneas, nervous?_ Another secret. Another truth, another wall. The action fit with the flirtatious gunner. It was the Irvine inside who wasn't so sure.

These damn two worlds. Oscillating between confidence and cowardice. The past catching up with the present. It was too much - but he couldn't help himself.

"Irvine." Quistis snapped him from his reverie, the hint of a smile on her face. "You realize you just let Selphie cover your face with powdered sugar, right?"

"Oh." He paused, and then raised an eyebrow. "Either of you two ladies interested in helping me get it off?"

"Eww." Selphie stuck out her tongue. "Vinny, you're _gross._"

"You're the one who put it there, Selphie. It's your job." He leaned back into the couch, casual. Seductive, almost. If the situation weren't so ...benign.

Selphie rolled her eyes and, leaning in with a giggle, she kissed the tip of Irvine's nose. "There," she said, roses blooming in her cheeks. "But that's all the help you're going to get," she said with a warning finger.

_Did I really just do that?_

Irvine looked up, trying to ignore the scent of citrus that had invaded his senses. His eyes met Quistis's over his cup of coffee; hers shone with a knowing smile. He shook his head.

"Just how much powder is on my face?" he asked.

Quistis arched a perfect eyebrow, sending Irvine a message: _you're changing the subject._ "Not much," she said casually, and Selphie giggled again.

"You can use my bathroom if you want, Irvy."

He stared at himself in the mirror. His face, beneath the powdered sugar (which washed off easily), was fading pink. His head was rushing. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea.

  
  
  
  
  
  


They had successfully made it out of Selphie's room and were heading to the classroom on the second floor, where each of them would take the written test for the certification. Zell had caught up with them outside the dorms; he had been up early, full of nervous energy, and had taken it out on the Training Center in its entirety. He didn't look surprised at all to see Irvine; but then again, maybe he thought Irvine was taking the test with them after all. Zell was not known as the observant sort. Not like Quistis.

Selphie bounced along at his side, full of her own sort of energy and spunk. She was chattering as usual, and it took all of his willpower to listen to every word she said. All Irvine wanted to do was close his eyes and bask in the warmth of her aura. She was talking about the exam, and how much she had done, and how she hoped her demonstration would be effective -

"Here."

Quistis had paused before the classroom door. Her face was a little white, and she sighed, her hand on the knob. Irvine remembered how she had lost the license before - deemed "ineffective" due to Seifer's wrath and Squall's retribution - and knew that down inside her stomach much be double-knotted. Zell was strangely quiet. Selphie finally realized that they were at the door and stopped, clapping her hands over her mouth.

"Oh, geez."

"Well." Quistis smiled. "Irvine, unless you've changed your mind, you have to wait out here."

The cowboy gave a shrug. "So like, let me know when you guys are done. And how you did. And how hard it was, and all the questions on the test..."

Selphie hit him in the shoulder. "Dummy. If you wanted to take the test, you should have signed up with the rest of us."

He gave Quistis a pat on the back, gave Zell a harder smack on the shoulder, and then turned to Selphie. She was biting her lip, checking her boots as she always did - except that they were fancy official SeeD shoes, not boots.

"G'luck, Seff." 

She looked up at him and her face broke out in the most radiant smile ever. "I wish you were taking it too," she blurted out, and then disappeared into the test room.

The door closed. Irvine stared at it for a while and then sighed. Maybe he'd go for a walk.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Zell put his pencil down and threw his fists in the air. "YEAH! Done!"

"Mr Dincht," Xu reprimanded, "Not until the others have finished."

Zell sighed. Quistis had been done for half an hour, and Selphie was hurriedly writing out the end of an answer as if she couldn't wait to get rid of the paper. "Xu," he whined, "I'm hungry."

Xu turned to give Zell a glare - the same glare he was receiving from Quistis, who had done an about face from the window. "Heh," he laughed, his transgression forgotten. "Q and Xu. The Terrible Twins."

"Selphie is still -"

"Selphie is done!" Selphie exclaimed, and leapt from her seat to give Xu - the proctor - her written exam. 

The thin cadet stacked the three exams together and tucked them neatly into a slim folder. "Now, come this way," she said, gesturing to the door.

"As you know," Xu said as they walked, "a personal demonstration is required. The Certification Committee has gathered and is waiting to watch your technique. Today we've gathered outside, since it's nice." She gave them a brief smile.

"The test follows as such. We've programmed a holographic enemy which you must fight. The program keeps track of how much hypothetical damage you do to the creature and how much you receive in return. We'll be expecting special techniques as well as fighting basics. No holds barred. Show us you know everything - from the most obvious, basic blocks to your own specialized limit breaks. The hologram will record everything, so we can watch it in detail later. We want to see you at your best."

Xu held the gate open for them. "If you pass this part, you'll be put into a training system where you apprentice-teach with one of our current instructors. Judging by your experience, however, I doubt this part will take more than a week. Especially for Trepe. They'll put you right back into the swing of things."

Quistis sighed, her face ashen. _I can't screw this up._

The set-up looked strangely like the stage Selphie and Irvine had put together for Squall's promotion party. One platform was raised above the ground with railings around the outside and two sensitive pads built in - one for monitoring the candidate, and one to control the AI monster they would face. In a ring around the stage sat a series of cold-faced judges.

"Alphabetical order, of course - Zell Dincht, you're up."

If Zell was nervous, it all faded once he was in the ring. He was a born fighter, trained to face off to the largest of enemies with only his fitted gloves. Honestly, Zell was no chicken-wuss - not any more. All of his hardships and anger and in-your-face attitude were safely channeled through his fists.

He began by casually boxing around with the monster, blocking and parrying, mostly, showing his wide range of kicks and punches. Selphie could tell by his smile that he was bored, however, for he soon picked up the tempo, sending in two, three, four direct hits for every attempt the monster made. Soon he was nothing but a flurry of flips and punches, fists flying with what could only be called finesse. He was in the middle of one of his long chains of limit-break moves, showing no sign of stopping, when suddenly the hologram vanished. Zell, expecting a solid body, accidentally dove through the air and landed face-first on the ground of the platform.

"Excellent job," a voice said from the crowd. 

"You alright?" Selphie called. Zell picked himself up with his trademark grin, brushed off his vest, and vaulted himself over the railing.

He shook his head. "I don't believe that's gonna be on tape."

"Next - Selphie Tilmett?"

The petite brunette took her place on the stand. Against the giant monster that appeared before her, she looked almost comical, her cute little face and flipped hair not seeming to be much of a menace. But a familiar smile grew across her face and Quistis knew that she was taking advantage of the surprise she had in store. No one expected this innocent, lovable girl to be quite as fierce as she was. And when Selphie channeled her energy into battle - the results were unbelievable.

_Bam!_ The nunchucks came out of nowhere, striking the beast across the face. Selphie's weapon allowed her to attack from a distance, and her precise aim kept the monster at bay. A flick there, a strike here - combining expertise and a relentless onslaught were Selphie's strong points. She nimbly dodged the monster's special attack and fired a successive series of hits - one, two, three. The cuteness was gone, replaced with a polished, efficient, and terrifying enemy. All the more terrifying because she showed no evidence of tiring out - ever. Finally, the energy grew to the point where she reached her limit; Selphie began casting spells, high-level spells, two or three at a time, in a row. Faster, faster. And she showed no sign of faltering now.

The hologram vanished in the midst of her fire spell; Selphie blinked, and then grinned.

"Wonderful job. Quistis Trepe?"

The tall, thin blonde took the stand, snapping her whip in anticipation. Unlike Selphie, no one doubted that Quistis meant business. She stood there, more serious than Shiva, her eyes narrowed. It was obvious that she was tough. And she showed it - taking control of the battle in the first thirty seconds, a strategic attack that placed the enemy on the defensive beneath her whip. 

Her stunning Save the Queen let her remain in the back, but Quistis didn't hesitate to press her advantage, making sure the monster realized who was the boss in this situation. She set her heels deep, holding her ground; the whip was a whirl of motion, just an extension of her body. She used her keen observation to notice when the monster was beginning to step forward, at which point she burst out with her forceful Blue Magic. Alternating between spell and strike, choosing each of the enemy skills with appropriate, deadly timing, she managed to be three steps ahead of the enemy at every turn. Finally her whip cut through thin air - the hologram was gone.

She had broken a sweat in that last barrage, wanting to impress them with the amount of skills she had picked up on their travels; the cunning thought and strategy was perhaps harder work than the actual physical attack. 

"Excellent, all of you." Xu stood. "We will be evaluating your performances - both these and the written exams - and the results will be posted tomorrow. Until then, enjoy a day off."

"Whew," Zell sighed on the way back in. "I'm off to the showers."

Quistis gave a sigh of relief. "I'm going to beg Doctor Kadowaki for a dip in the hot tub," she said with a grin. "She owes me one - I've been running errands all week."

"I have to go check on the - mmmph."

Zell gave an evil grin. "I think Selphie said she wanted to come with you."

"Excellent." Quistis returned the conniving smile. "What say you all join me in ten?"

"Mmmmph."

"Good."

  
  
  
  
  
  


Selphie threw a look over her shoulder, and then slipped through the door. She found herself on the second-floor balcony, the one that had once been used as an entrance into and out of Garden. It was one of her favorite places - somewhere she could just relax for a second. The grass and trees and sky didn't expect her to hold up the cheerful facade.

The hot tub had been nice, and she was very relaxed; however, something was still on her mind. Literally. Reaching up to her ear, she unclipped the small piece of metal that held all of her GFs. She had known they'd be vital to the certification battle; her limit break had trained her to call forth magic on her own, but the junctioning power of the Forces were obviously needed for a situation such as that. 

She stared down at the little clip in her palm, pondering. Everyone had a different way of junctioning, but Selphie had always needed something physical - an actual connection between the spirits she fought with and her own body. If anyone knew that she'd unjunctioned everything, she could be set for some trouble. It wasn't anything serious - it just went against SeeD training, namely: "Always be prepared."

Nothing had come back.

She grimaced and tucked the little clip away in her bra (a very secret place, she figured), heading forward to lean against the railing in thought. Nothing. The only memories she had were vague and misty: the beach, the fireworks. Playing war, playing cowboys, playing house. Nothing solid. Nothing to explain why she was so depressed - and so confused.

She drummed her fingers on the railing in an absent rhythm. Her mind kept presenting her with Irvine. The puzzle that was Irvine Kinneas. He had been her best friend and more on the journey - always by her side, at her back, making her happier than she had ever been. He was her constant companion, full of both fun and excitement _and_ a surprising sense of courage and dependability. 

But why?

She discarded the obvious idea immediately. If Irvine had been trying to seduce her - well, not like it would have been _unpleasant_ - but it probably would have been a little more obvious. And a little more timely. Their voyage had been long and hard. If he was looking for a cheap thrill, there were easier targets. It was a lot of time to invest into a one-night stand.

Irvine had been the only one that remembered. That was part of the attraction - the fact that he alone knew the ...

_Attraction?_

Well, a girl would have to be blind to not be attracted to Irvine Kinneas.

Selphie smiled at herself. She was a little old to have a crush on someone, eh? But it was more than that. She was convinced that the key to Irvine's odd, wonderful behavior was in their past. There was some sort of connection that she was missing.

And she was trying her damndest.

Irvine had remembered - what? Their childhood. He had been the catalyst for everyone else's memories, the force that activated everything else. One shot that set off the powder keg. How like a sniper.

But Selphie's fuse had fizzled and died out short of its goal. She didn't know if it had been her ill-fated experiment with the GF back in childhood or just the ritualistic use of the Forces in SeeD training. But she couldn't remember anything.

She sighed. It was so selfish! There were so many people out there that she could try to help, so many problems in the here and now. That had always been her attitude, her motto: focus on the good. On the positive. No matter what, no matter how horrible the danger, she had to stay on the bright side. People depended on her cheer, she knew. She couldn't just walk around Garden with her emotions plastered on her face - her fear, despair, loss. She had to keep the smile up, so she could make other people smile too.

But for once, Selphie felt like throwing a fit.

Someone had told her something very important once: _Anything worth doing is worth overdoing._ And Selphie lived like she breathed and like she fought: with excess. Energy. Vivacity. All channeled toward the positive.

But just this once, she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs and punch a hole through Balamb Garden's outer wall.

She settled for kicking the railing and went inside.


	3. Three: charades

  
  


Chapter 3

  
  
  
  


"Good morning, Irvine."

Squall Leonheart sat in his makeshift office on Balamb's third floor. The bridge, where Nida had once controlled the flying fortress, had been roped off casually. Squall had brought in a plain desk, a comfortable chair, and a couple of simple file cabinets. The office suited him. His desk was currently covered with papers, flyers, and folders, while Cid's desk was gathering dust. There was no better sign as to who was in charge of Balamb Garden's future - at least in the short term.

Irvine sat across from Squall's desk, reclining in the other comfortable chair Squall had recruited from the first floor. He had awoken to find his message service light blinking; amused, he had punched the button, expecting Seff or Zell. Instead, Squall's solemn voice had asked him to head to the bridge as soon as he was up for the day.

"So like, what kind of job do you have for me?" Irvine leaned forward. "You said there was a mission."

"Yes and no." Squall rested his elbows precariously on a tall stack of paper. "We have ...I have a request to make... you're still a SeeD, you know, and..."

"Don't be nervous and don't be formal," Irvine said with a grin. "It's me. What's up?"

Squall paused, still unfamiliar with Irvine's open, friendly nature; then a small smile appeared and he relaxed. "Right ...well, Cid hasn't told me much about it," he said in a much more natural tone. "But from what I understand, there's a job in the offering that suits you perfectly."

"Indeed." Irvine narrowed his eyes. "Tell me more."

Squall dug through the pile on his desk - the topmost pile - and pulled out a black folder. He opened it up and scanned his eyes over the piece of paper inside. "In about three weeks we'll be sending out a mission," he began. "It's a weapons lockdown on some smugglers heading into Galbadia. From what Intelligence has told us, there's going to be some sort of quasi-military galleria held ...well, never mind. The point is, the most efficient way to eliminate all of this trouble involves some high-quality gunwork."

"Sounds like you're calling for a sniper." Irvine shifted in his chair.

Squall gave his small half-smile again. "Yes and no. It'll involve multiple snipers from multiple positions. And the goal is to eliminate all potential offense - without taking a life. We'll be sending in ground troops to take prisoners because we need information - so we'll need skilled people who can literally shoot a weapon out of someone's hands."

"Alright." Irvine shrugged. "But there's only one of me."

"We're not sending you," Squall said slowly. "At least, not yet. What we need you to do is train the snipers. We'd like to use it as a field exam, and there are a few students here who have expressed interest in ...what?"

Irvine threw up his hands. "Woah, man. So like, you're saying you want me to train _cadets_ to be accurate enough to shoot down a man's _weapon_ without killing him - in three weeks?"

Squall met Irvine's gaze with determination. "Can you do it?"

"Hmmm." Thoughts were running through the cowboy's mind. "Possibly."

"You're the only one who can," Squall said. "And if you fail, the mission fails. We'll need more than one good gunman, so even if we have to send you in, you'll have to have backup. You have to be good, Irvine."

A smirk spread across his lips. "I am good," he replied softly. Then, narrowing his eyes in thought: "What's so complex about the mission?"

Squall bit his lip. "I actually can't tell you yet." He shrugged. "Not like I know much more than you. It's top-secret, just came through Intelligence. The first mission Cid has completely ignored and left up to me."

Irvine stood up and extended his hand to Squall. "Well, then, mission accepted, sir," he said with his winning smile.

"Good." Squall gave him a rare smile in return. "We're hoping to entice you to stay at Balamb, you know."

Irvine cocked his head. "Really."

Squall shrugged. "Well, the official stance on it is that all of the "Sorceress's Warriors" should be kept together at one Garden."

"Yeah." He paused. "So then, what's the unofficial stance?"

"No one wants to see you go."

Irvine blinked.

Squall shrugged again, coming around to the front side of the desk, resting on the only semi-clear part. "From what I've heard from the others, at least, they all want the "Orphanage Gang" to stick together for a while. We all went through heaven and hell, and we kind of ..." He paused, not knowing how to phrase the words properly. "We should stick together. At least for now."

Sighing, the young leader of Balamb Garden stood and opened the door for Irvine. "Who knows - things may get worse, and we may need each other again. Think about it, Irvine. Oh - I'll be sending out the papers to your dorm room - classes start day after tomorrow."

Irvine headed for the elevator, but as the doors closed, he remained still, leaned up against the wall. Thinking.

_No one wants to see you go._

He had always been the odd one out. The only SeeD cadet not from Balamb. The outsider on the little clique. Even Rinoa was included in things - she was their client (and Squall had always been partial to her). Irvine had clawed and scratched his way into the group, and at times he felt that there were still walls he'd never be able to break. Even with their strangely-united pasts, he had still been the loner. The lone gunman. The Galbadian Cowboy. He had been the only one who had remembered.

_No one wants to see you go._

Why had it taken Squall - cold, emotionless Squall - to tell him this? Why was no one else telling him whether he was important or not?

A voice - a whisper across his consciousness:

_I wish you were taking it too._

The Instructor tests - the results should be up!

Irvine punched the first-floor button in anticipation, wondering where they would be. The results would be posted in the front lobby for everyone to see. Should he check there first? Or should he look around for them, wait to hear it from their own lips?

The elevator doors opened and rendered the question moot: even from the elevator he could hear Selphie squealing.

They were gathered around the display in the front lobby. Selphie was jumping up and down in happiness; Zell was punching the air in his trademark; and Quistis, calm as always, was the first to notice Irvine.

"I suppose congratulations are in order," he said, leaning up against the display, tilting his hat up to get a better look at everyone.

Selphie flung herself at him like a little yellow missile, grinning from ear to ear. He swung her around in a circle with a growing smile. "Irvy, we passed," she squealed. "And Quistis received Honor Marks on her performance - well, we all did, but she sure cleaned up - and she's going to be teaching real complex stuff for upper-level SeeD cadets, and I get to teach the intro class, and Zell is second-level with combat and defense training, and we all have jobs in Balamb!" She gave him a final squeeze and then left, leaping on Quistis in a similar manner. The blond, looking amused and bemused, patted her on the back as she continued to squeal.

Irvine took the opportunity to look over the list. High Honor Marks given on performance to all - although, honestly, Quistis's written exam had been nearly perfect. He grinned at Zell and clapped the martial arts master on the back.

"Oh man." Zell couldn't stop grinning. "Wait 'til I tell Ma." He rubbed the back of his neck, pleased; but he was next to be hit by a bright, squealing Selphie missile.

"Well," Quistis said. "Irvine, I wish you were teaching with us."

He gave her a practiced smirk. "Darlin', I'll be around for a little while longer."

"_What?"_ Selphie threw herself off Zell, astounded. "How are you getting Balamb to support you, lazy-face?"

Irvine was laughing. "Special assignment from Squall. There's a mission coming up and I've been assigned to train us some snipers."

"Oh, this is so _great!_" Selphie threw herself at him again. "We'll all be together, teaching and hanging out and we get to stay in Balamb and work with Squall and Rinoa and everyone!" She detached herself long enough to look Irvine in the face and say : "Now you _have_ to get certified and teach here _forever_ or I'll never forgive you."

Irvine felt himself blushing bright red. 

Zell noticed the look and said, "Yeah, Irvine, what are you planning on doing now?"

"Well..." 

His thoughts separated themselves from the conversation.

_What am I planning on doing now? I want to stay here with all of you. I want to be the family we were when we traveled to defeat Ultemecia. I want to be the family we were in the orphanage with the Kramers. I want to belong somewhere._

_But I'm not going to stay if no one wants me. I'm not going to hang on to something unattainable. I spent too much of my life dreaming of a perfect world - I'm not going to be disappointed._

Realizing suddenly that he had trailed off, he said with a smirk, "I could be talked into staying around for a while."

"You certainly should," Quistis said. "It would be a shame for all of us to be separated now."

Selphie checked her boots in her usual nervous habit. "I was nervous that the only openings would be somewhere else," she admitted. "I mean, I feel like I should go back to Trabia - but I want to stay here, with everybody."

Zell grinned. "I mean, I've gotta stick around here and take care of Ma," he said. "But yeah, I want all my friends here too."

Irvine hit himself in the forehead. "Why didn't you guys tell me about your fantastic plan?" he asked, and then was hit with a sudden, embarrassing thought. "Or ...am I not invited?"

"Irvine," Quistis snapped with more force than she meant, "you're the one always moping about being the 'lone cowboy'. _You're_ the one who pretends you don't need us. Don't give me this 'always left out' thing again."

"Q," Irvine replied, with more pain in his voice than he intended, "I'm not kidding. There's a little Balamb Club, and I'm not in it. That's okay."

Quistis's shining blue eyes narrowed. "You're the one who keeps up that wall," she said angrily. "You're the one keeping us out."

There was an awkward moment of silence. Irvine's mind, usually racing, was strangely empty. _What can I say to that? _Nothing came to mind.

Finally he gathered all his courage together and said softly: "It just hurts to be the one on the outside. The only one who really remembers. You've all forgotten what were the happiest days of my life. I don't want... I don't want to get forgotten again."

Another poignant moment followed. Finally, Irvine shook his head, his long hair whipping behind him.

"Forget it." He lifted his gaze off the floor, catching three concerned gazes: aquamarine, icy blue, brilliant green. Swallowing his feelings - _you're going to hate this later_ - he gave them a winning smile. "C'mon. Forget it. Let's go celebrate for you guys."

Quistis shrugged, as if to say, _whatever._ Her gaze then caught someone familiar behind him - "Xu!" she called out, and hurried over to the dark-haired girl who was her friend.

Zell took the opportunity to run. "I'm gonna go, uh, brag about it," he said, his glance toward the library betraying his real destination.

Selphie turned to Irvine; he smiled at her and proposed, "Take a walk with me?"

She grinned and tucked her hand into his offered arm.

Another plan was playing across Irvine's mind, and his gut said it was a good idea. "So now's the time to celebrate, huh?"

Selphie looked at him, excitement spreading across her face. "What do you mean?"

He grinned. "So like, we have to throw a party now," he said. "You guys all passed your tests. Let's get the gang together and celebrate like we should."

Selphie squealed. "We'll make Rinoa and Squall and everyone take a day off from work and we'll go down to the beach!" Her fingers tightened on Irvine's arm. "You have the best ideas, Vin! We can head down through Balamb, stop in and visit Zell's mom!"

"We can ask in the cafeteria if they'll make a picnic," Irvine suggested, and was rewarded by another squeal.

"I haven't had a picnic in ages!" Selphie's eyes were sparkling. "This'll be so fun, we've all got..." Her voice trailed off.

Irvine looked down at her, perched on the arm of his suede coat. Her green eyes were filled with a question.

A question he didn't think he could answer.

_How can I tell her everything I'm thinking? _He paused there, staring into her eyes for what seemed like the longest moment ever. _If she hasn't remembered everything, she'll never understand what my life has been. What it is now. How I fought off loneliness and despair with dreams of a girl I knew I'd never see again._ She was still looking up at him, the question on her lips, her deep eyes frantically trying to read his face, access his secrets. _Panic._ He felt himself assembling the Kinneas charm again, trying to distract her piercing gaze before it could get too deep.

_ You're the one keeping us out._ Quistis's voice, echoing in his mind.

_Damn._

"Irvine," Selphie said softly. 

_I can't let her in. Not yet._

But her eyes were melting his mask, eating away at his wall. 

"Not now, Seff," he said cautiously.

For a second her eyes flared, and he wondered just how much she _had_ remembered; she looked ready to fight, ferocious and yet darling at the same time. But then she smiled sweetly at him and said, "Alright, Irvy," her slender fingers squeezing his arm. 

"Look," Irvine said. "Why don't you go find Squall and see when he and Rinoa are free tonight and tomorrow. I'm going to go ...take care of something. I'll meet you back here."

"Okay!" The look was gone, replaced with her usual perpetual cheerfulness - and Irvine found himself wondering if Selphie, too, had a wall of her own; much different than his, but a blockade nonetheless. She gave him a smile and hurried off to the elevator. He heard a high-pitched squeal as she ran into someone she knew and smiled in spite of himself.

He was in no hurry to apologize to Quistis, but he found his feet carrying him back to the front lobby, where the tall blonde was resting on a bench, talking to Xu. Irvine was there before he liked it, and when Xu noticed him approaching she waved goodbye to Quistis and left. 

He took a seat beside Quistis, resting his elbows on the knees of his chaps, leaning forward. Neither one of them looked at each other; they both stared forward listlessly.

Finally, Quistis stirred. "We're more alike than you think."

Irvine turned to look at her, straightening. "You and me?"

"Yeah." Quistis sighed. "But all of us. I can't chastize you for putting up a wall when I do it too." She turned to look at him, apology in her icy blue eyes. "I'm sorry, Irvine. I didn't mean to snap at you."

He gave her a lopsided smile. "And I didn't mean to take it so seriously."

Quistis leaned back, crossing her ankles in front of her. She looked mildly upset - pensive and thoughtful. "It's true, Irvine. We've all got walls. We're all playing charades."

It wasn't often that Quistis opened herself up, so Irvine prodded gently: "What do you mean, Q?"

She sighed. "Look at us. Actors. Squall's cold and emotionless because he's afraid of attachment. Selphie's spunky and cheerful because she wants everybody to like her. Zell feels he has to be tough and impetuous so that nobody will think he's a cry-baby. And me - I have to be perfect on the outside, so nobody knows how insecure I am." 

Irvine had to smile. "We're not perfect, Quistis. None of us. We didn't have perfect lives. None of us ever had anything to fall back on - any sort of support. We had to depend on ourselves, and sometimes that means things happen that we don't like."

She bowed her head for a second, trying to regain her composure; and then let out a bitter laugh. "Even you. You act like you're this flirtatious wandering cowboy, this carefree playboy figure - because you're afraid to commit."

"Hey, hey, hey." He tapped her on the arm. "I thought we were talking about you."

"It's true, though." Her eyes were watery, and Irvine realized suddenly that Quistis was close to tears. Swamped with compassion, he put an arm around her; she rested her head on his shoulder. "My whole life I've felt like I have to prove myself to somebody. Somebody else. We all do it - we're so concerned with images and appearances..."

"Quistis." Irvine squeezed her shoulder. "How much do you remember about the orphanage?"

She sniffled into his coat. "Not much," she confessed quietly. "I've been here since I was 10. I'm pretty sure my chances of remembering anything are slim to none."

"When we were all together at the orphanage," Irvine began, wondering how he could convey his thoughts in a way Quistis would understand, "even though we fought and argued and kicked and bit and told on each other, we were _together. _A family. Yes, we were only four years old. But it was something like security." He paused, gathered his thoughts, and then continued. "But when Ellone left, we started to fall apart. Then people came, and one by one we were separated - each of us pulled off on our own, with only a memory of the way things were supposed to be. Of course we closed ourselves off, of course we retreated from the real world - we didn't know what it was like to be alone. We had always had each other."

He squeezed her shoulder again. "Give it time, Quistis. We're back together. You have loads of friends here who will accept you for what you are - nothing less and nothing more."

She sat up, a small smile across her face, and he teased: "And if that falls through, I hear you have your own squad of admirers wandering the halls of Balamb."

She elbowed him in the gut. "And I was just about to compliment you for your sincerity, cowboy," she murmured.

He tipped his hat at her. "Any time, madam. Any time."

He stood to go, but Quistis grabbed his hand. "Irvine," she said, her voice almost pleading, and he stopped.

"Promise me you'll tell me about the orphanage someday."

He smiled. "Of course."

"Heeeeeeey!"

Selphie ran down from the elevator and skidded to a halt in front of the duo. "Squall's a big fuddy-duddy," she said with a playful grimace, "but lucky for us Rinoa's in the library. I sent her up to talk to Squall." She reached out and squeezed Irvine's hand. "We're gonna have a party!!"

Somehow, seeing Selphie happy always made a smile bloom across his face. 

  
  
  
  


Later that evening he retreated to the second-floor balcony again. 

This time he brought a friend.

He had named the guitar _Exeter_ when he first got it, a young idealistic Galbadian trainee who wanted nothing more than to have a chance to shoot the famous rifle. The guitar was old - very old. He bought it right after his first mission - he'd saved every penny. Named it after the Exeter rifle he knew he'd shoot someday - at least that was an attainable dream.

Initially, the guitar was just a toy to him, something to pass away the spare time. Something to convince himself that he was deep and intense without having to dig too far. But the music spoke to him in a way that only the sunrise could, and soon he found that he wasn't faking. The light twanging of the strings, the way their voices sang in harmony - it was real.

He realized later that it had been his second memory of his father.

He held it now across his lap, cross-legged on the cool floor of the small alcove, its beaten but polished black surface with delicate red inlays glowing in the sunset. _Strum. Strum._ And then his fingers picked up in a melody that only they could decipher, the light voice of the guitar fading over the walls.

Tomorrow he would get his SeeD briefing for the job he had been assigned. The next day, all four of them would begin teaching - he and Selphie has been assigned to the group of SeeD cadets about to face their exam. Zell was teaching a general martial-arts defense class and Quistis was way up in her Advanced Limit Break section. Maybe if he liked it he would apply for Instructorship - though he'd never be a good Instructor. Too much of his life had been spend staring through the scope of a rifle. 

His fingers stopped to take a breather and he strummed some familiar old song peacefully. Poor Quistis. He had always felt close to her for some reason; they teased each other like brother and sister. Maybe it was because Quistis was observant enough to not fall for Irvine's trademark charm. The good looks and sexy demeanor that had protected him from getting close to anyone. 

He sighed. His hands adjusted themselves and began to pick out a slow, soft country tune he had picked up on a mission somewhere. She'd been right; they all had walls.

And his was dangerously close to coming down.


	4. Four: balcony revisited

  
  


**Chapter Four**

  
  


Irvine's eyes fluttered open. There was a peaceful smile across his face; it was the first good night of sleep he'd had in a while. His room seemed a little chilly, but the rest had been fantastic.

Then the smile faded slowly.

Why was he sleeping on the second floor balcony?

He was still in the back corner, leaning up against the wall; the black guitar had slipped off his lap at some point in the night and now lay beside him on the ground, lost in dreams of its own.

He let out a low chuckle. Well, at least he'd had a good rest - 

A shuffling outside the door caught his attention.

Then the door slammed open, almost smashing his elbow; he started, wincing. But a small figure threw itself across the landing, sobbing, tightening small hands around the railing. Irvine found he'd never been so shocked in his life.

"Selphie?"

She whirled around, obviously frightened, and her face both lit up and fell as her gaze landed on him. "Oh, no," she whispered, and turned hastily away, attempting to dry her face with her palms, hiding the tears.

"Sefie ... Seff..." Morning drowsiness had vanished. He hurried to his feet and gathered her in his arms, asking no questions. For a moment she looked as if she were about to struggle, deny the tears and the comfort; but then she choked, and sighed, and Selphie relaxed into Irvine's arms, her tear-streaked face buried in his coat.

They stood like that for a while, just breathing. Irvine's arms were tight around her, his chin resting lightly on the crown of her head. One figure against the cold of the morning.

Selphie's eyes were clenched tightly; she was losing herself, simply fading into the warmth. Dazedly she asked: "What are you doing out here, Irvine?"

His chuckle was deep against her ear, pressed tightly against him. "I seem to have spent the night," he said, his amused voice low and rumbling. Selphie giggled, and opened her eyes.

"Your voice sounds funny," she said - to Irvine's vest. Deep purple fabric covering soft, creamy skin. She was face to face with his precious necklace, red stones framing his neck, her own hands clutching his suede duster. She blushed and took a step back in spite of herself.

Irvine released her gently; almost stumbling with the sudden loss of contact, she made her way back to the railing, drumming her fingers against its coll metal absently. Irvine remained, watching her - neither demanding nor intruding. A silent wall of support. 

She was shivering, and Irvine suddenly realized she was wearing only soft gray pants and a gold tank-tee - obviously her pajamas. Without a thought he took his coat and swept it around her shoulders. She clutched it gratefully, but said softly, her gaze still distant: "It's not from the cold."

Irvine came to stand beside her, leaning against the railing and looking out over the wilds of Balamb. His bare shoulders prickled at the cold morning breeze, but he ignored it. "Bad dream, then?"

Selphie sniffled. "I wish," she said bitterly. Irvine realized he had never seen her like this before - she'd been down, yeah, but never quite so desolate. Even when the missiles had hit Trabia Garden - she was upset then, yes, but angry, channeling all of her frustration into the revenge mission on the missile base. Now she was devoid of that spark, that spunk that was Selphie Tilmett. And Irvine was worried beyond belief.

"It wasn't a nightmare - it was a dream, I guess," she said, the tears coming back into her voice, making it high-pitched. "A wonderful dream. More than a dream - it was memories. Stuff we'd all done together in our childhood."

She gripped the railing, her knuckles turning white. "But I _can't remember anything!_ I woke up suddenly and it was ...all gone ...I lost it all..." The tears rained down her face again, and Irvine reached out to put an arm around her.

"Irvine, I..." She looked up at him, those vibrant green eyes dimmed with sorrow. "I'm trying so hard ...I can't remember _anything,_ Irvine. I've been disjunctioned ever since we came back to Balamb," she confessed. "I took out all of my GFs. And I still don't have any memories I can call my own."

Looking out at the misty morning again, she whispered bitterly: "I'm trying _so hard,_ and I don't have ...anything..."

She choked on a sob, and Irvine was there, his strong arms wrapping around her. She buried her face in his chest, flinging her arms around his waist, holding him tightly.

"Seff," he whispered, "it's okay. You haven't lost your memories. They're still in there - they're just lost. They're trying to find their way back to you." He tightened his arms around her slim shoulders - draped in his coat - and said, "And besides, Seff, you've got us. The rest of us. We're back together again. We can help you remember - and what you can't recognize doesn't matter. We'll make new memories."

She shuddered with a large sob. "I -" Her voice cracked. "I just want to know where I came from. I always knew I was an orphan. But now..."

His voice was soft, smooth, caring. "Let me give you a memory, Selphie," he offered quietly. She nodded her face against his coat. His mind began racing, suddenly panicking, trying to choose one picture from the myriad spinning across his vision.

'There was a little cove on the beach," he began finally, "where we used to go and play. You and Quisty found it one day; she wanted to keep it a secret, make it a 'secret clubhouse' just for the girls. But you wanted to share it with everybody. You and I..." He paused, lost in thought, lips curving in a smile. "We would use it as our 'base' when we played..."

"Cowboys," Selphie whispered, her voice full of wonder and tears. "There was a little space in the rocks that let in the sun..."

"We called it the 'magic window'," Irvine finished. "And you tried to plant flowers in the cave. Matron had to explain to you why they wouldn't grow - there wasn't enough sun, she said. You were mad at her and dragged her down to the cave to show her the window. Then we all got in trouble for playing in the cave."

Selphie giggled, a sad little giggle that was more like a sigh. "Did I?" she asked, amused at her younger self. "I can remember the window," she whispered. "And you and me, playing cowboys on the beach, throwing sticks at Zell."

"Cowboys don't throw sticks," Irvine said, amused. Selphie looked up at him sharply and he smiled at her. "But we didn't know that," he amended, his lips twisting in a smirk. "We did throw sticks at Zell."

He sighed and tightened his grip on her, resting his cheek on her hair. "Seff, you'll remember enough. And I'll help you regain what you don't have. It's okay."

Selphie couldn't move. She was locked in Irvine's arms, her head resting against his chest, the soft scent of something rich, sweet, slightly smoky, filling her senses. The enormity of what he was offering was astounding. _He can help me remember who I am..._ He was going to help her regain her childhood.

She should have asked sooner. So much frustration, gone. But she had been afraid that people would laugh - or that people would be annoyed - or that no one would help her. She didn't want anyone to see how upset she was, how the loss was eating away at her. She was all sunshine and smiles. Nobody was allowed to see in.

But she didn't seem to care that Irvine knew the truth. Irvine Kinneas, her childhood friend. He understood. More than anyone.

Irvine without thinking bent down and kissed the crown of her head. "I have to get going, Seff," he said softly. "I wasn't planning on spending the night here, and I have some things to take care of for Squall."

She looked up at him suddenly, something dawning; realization spreading across her face like the light through the clouds. In a daze, she handed him back her coat, her eyes fixed on his face. Awkwardly he gave her a smile, squeezed her shoulder and left.

Lost in her reverie, she approached the railing, her hands gripping it tightly. White-knuckled. How could she not have known?

She had just fallen in love with Irvine Kinneas.

The air was cold on her bare skin, and she hugged herself absently. The smell of his coat was still in the air - smoky, some cologne scented with wild woods and spices. 

The feel of his warm lips pressed against her hair.

_Irvine._

  
  
  
  


He made it all the way back to his room.

The light was flashing, as he had expected. Another message from Squall, probably about picking up the last-minute information for the class that started the next day. His SeeD assignment. He'd have to run and pick it up before Squall got caught up in the day's duties.

_Damn._

Irvine sat down on the couch, his heart racing. Not from running home, certainly. Obviously. He took a deep breath. His coat still smelled of her.

Sunshine and citrus. Inescapable.

_Who said he wanted to escape?_

But for a man too used to keeping his distance, his professed love for all women a shield to keep any particular one from getting too close, the experience was astounding. Astounding and dangerous. He'd revealed too much - he was letting go. And opening that door only meant trouble, disaster, and pain.

He cradled his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. This wasn't some casual seduction. It wasn't a game. This was _Selphie._ There was too much of a connection here - and there was much too much to lose. He couldn't drive her away if he wanted to. 

He was either in or out.

_Knock._

Quickly swallowing the heated debate - he knew it would settle in his stomach and make his day miserable - he opened the door. Quistis was standing there, manila folder in her hand, looking brisk and fresh in her SeeD uniform. 

She smiled at him. "Your papers," she said, and then handed him the folder. "You look relieved to see me." Her eyes narrowed. "Irvine, are you alright?"

He gave her his most effective smile. "It's a little early, Q. I'm not awake yet." _Don't look any closer._

But Quistis was much too observant. "Irvine, what's up?"

He smiled sheepishly. "I fell asleep outside. On the second-floor balcony. Was playing my guitar and just must have dozed off." Guitar? _Shit._ He'd have to go back and get it.

Quistis rolled her eyes, satisfied with the explanation. "That's funny," she said slyly, "I'd think you'd be used to spending the night somewhere other than your own bed."

"I'm hurt, Quistis." Puppy-dog eyes and the little pout. She was falling for it. "Is that what you think of me?"

She straightened and said crisply, "Squall wants you to check in after you've gone over those." She motioned to the paper and then left, her heels typing out a staccato beat down the hallway.

Irvine shut the door and winced. He hadn't meant to upset her - _ice queen_ - but he didn't quite want those strategic blue eyes delving into his soul. Especially when the feel of Selphie in his arms had wedged the door wide open. 

The chivalrous cowboy had been a facade - this was no secret to him. Beneath that surface, that tough-gone-sexy carefree emotionless bastard, was a small space where no one was allowed but Irvine himself. He had known few real friends over the course of his life. He was much too afraid of opening up to someone. Being betrayed. Being left behind.

As long as he did the leaving, it was okay. It didn't matter how many broken lives he left behind. How many empty shells lay on the ground. As long as he walked away.

Not the other way around.

Which made this whole situation precariously dangerous. Enticing and tempting and alluring and horribly utterly irrevocably dangerous. 

She was the one person who negated everything. The one character in the long story of his life that he could never walk away from. And if he opened the door and she walked away...

He shook his head. Hung up his coat and hat. Dropping the papers on the couch, he headed to his little kitchen-alcove: three scoops, six cups of water, switch on. Irvine liked his coffee strong, and today he needed it extra-strong. Something to beat himself over the head with. He deliberately kept his gaze off of his flask, tucked between two books on his shelf.

The mindless task had helped to clear his mind, so he gathered up some dishes and headed to the bathroom sink. Warm water, soap, sponge. It cleared the citrus out of his head, at least.

He grabbed his_ Galbadian Rifle Club_ mug, filled it with coffee, and headed for the couch. He picked up the folder and nestled himself into the corner, flinging his lanky legs over the end. He took a sip of the coffee and then opened the folder, dark eyes scanning the pages.

The scent of the coffee and the words on the page banished the rest of his thoughts.

He re-read the first paragraph of the briefing, confused. This was much more serious than Squall had made it sound. It wasn't just some random weapons bust - it was a link to a terrorist group in Galbadia. Garden Intelligence had been following them for months now. And the 'weapons gala' Squall had alluded to was more like a 'weapon bonanza'. Missiles and chemical weapons. _Shit._

He turned the page, nervous and intrigued now. The situation was wrought with security issues. Two flanks of SeeD were to head in and infiltrate the headquarters during an important sales meeting. His squad of snipers would shoot out all the weapons, guard perimeter, and take out the building's electricity; it had been deemed too dangerous to go in head-on. On the mark another squad of SeeD would move in with nerve gas. If anyone still had a gun, there would be lives at stake. They had to shoot with precision. Shoot to disarm first; and then shoot to kill, to protect the second squad.

He winced at the bold order. But it wasn't the first time he'd opened a manila folder and seen the words _shoot to kill._ Certainly. It was no surprise to him, the 'best shooter in Garden'. He'd been _shooting to kill_ since he'd picked up a gun. Sent off on missions by the time he was twelve. Teenage mercenary. Expert aim. Cowboy assassin. The wince was more for the SeeD cadets who had never had to take a life. Irvine himself was used to it.

He shook his head and turned the page. There was the 'List of Expected Results' that every SeeD mission contained. Not all SeeDs got to see theirs or bothered to read it. But he was in charge of this part, unfortunately, and as he read the list his face grew white.

Three weeks? All of this in three weeks?

The purpose of the mission was to take captives. But they had to shoot to kill if necessary?

Confusing.

His concern deepened. This was one hell of a field exam, he realized. It didn't make sense to be sending cadets out on something this serious, this important. It was much too dangerous. They'd need a couple of well-trained certified SeeDs to back up the forces, because things could easily go to hell, and probably would.

...Much too easily.

He flipped back hastily, eyes scanning the first page. This mission wasn't planned very well, either. It didn't make any sense! Whoever put this scenario hadn't been thinking like a SeeD. And he knew that Squall couldn't have read this; he never would have let this get past him.

Irvine gathered the papers together, topped off his mug, and went in search of Squall. Who had designed this mission? Who was paying for it? Whoever the asshole was, he was risking the lives of a bunch of SeeD cadets in a mission far beyond their capabilities. And Headmaster Cid had been a lunatic to agree to the mission - if he'd even read it.

Maybe it was just poor planning by some drop-out moron and everything could be fixed. He'd go and ask Squall what he knew.

He tried to tell himself that he'd stopped thinking about the second-floor balcony. But the scent of citrus on his coat told him otherwise.


	5. Five: knowing your gun

  
  


Chapter Five

  
  
  
  


The sun was shining down on Balamb Garden, bright and happy. Selphie stood in the entrance to Balamb, papers in her arms, wearing her familiar SeeD uniform and a smile on her face. Her bit as an Instructor, so far, had gone very well; the first week had taken off without a hitch. Her particular group of students had taken one look at her cheerful face and flipped hair and decided she was a joke; but after Tilmett's first training run, they weren't laughing. Behind that smile and playful face was enough drive and determination to convince any student that Selphie wasn't playing around. And once she and her students understood each other, things went wonderfully.

She stepped out into the sun, hearing the laughing voices of students on their break. _Maybe I'll sit out here to correct these papers,_ she pondered. _It'll be much nicer than my new, stupid office._ Heading forward, waving to a couple students she recognized, Selphie spotted a long, flat rock resting in the sun. _Perfect!_ She headed toward it; but as she neared it, she heard a familiar voice.

"..know your rifle as well as yourself, which is why...."

Irvine's southern drawl lingered on the word _rah-fle_ and Selphie stifled a giggle. Irvine's class had been delayed a couple days for suspicious reasons Selphie hadn't yet been able to figure out; his first day had been yesterday, and it had been brief. Six students had been chosen from Selphie's group to meet with the gunman every afternoon. Heading around the corner, she found Irvine seated with the other students in a circle. Before each of them was a Model-A Garden-Classic rifle, one even Selphie knew how to shoot. She recognized her students and smiled.

Irvine's head turned upward, and a genuine smile crossed his face as his deep eyes met hers. He was wearing his SeeD uniform; the crisp pants and jacket were a stunning contrast to his long ponytail and the way he sprawled across the grass, his precious Exeter lying before him. _He looks good,_ Selphie realized, and tried not to blush.

"Instructor Tilmitt," Irvine said with a nod, his eyes twinkling.

"Special Instructor Kinneas," she responded, trying to keep the smile from her face. "How are my students doing?"

"_Our_ students," Irvine emphasized slightly, "are fantastic."

Selphie heard a titter from the ring of cadets. "They're not giving you any trouble, are they?" she asked hastily.

Irvine gave her that wide smile he was so known for. "Nah. Though if they do, I'll know just where to send them."

She felt her face heating up. _He shouldn't tease me like this in front of the class._ But she almost liked it - liked the attention. A sparkle in her eyes, she replied: "Well, if a big guy like you can't handle them, I'll be grading over there."

Irvine raised an eyebrow at the challenge, but Selphie merely saluted and headed over to her rock, spreading the essays out before her to bask in the sun.

Irvine turned back to six curious pairs of eyes. He looked them over and said in all seriousness: "If any of you gives Instructor Tilmitt trouble, you'll have to answer to me."

One of the boys gave him a knowing look. "Is she your giiirrrlfriend?" he jested.

Irvine looked at him coolly. "I've known her since we were three years old," he said, and the smile disappeared from the boy's face. Irvine tipped his hat at the class. "Loyalty is the most important thing, see. Loyalty to Garden and to your cause, yes - but loyalty to each other. Remember that. Now, take a look at these rifles."

One of the older boys pouted. "Why are they giving us Garden Classics? I've been shooting these for years."

Irvine grinned. "Well, I want you all to take twenty minutes or so and get to know them."

"You're kidding." The boy picked up the gun and set it on his shoulder. "I know this thing by heart."

"Okay, then." In one smooth move Irvine lifted the rifle from the boy's shoulder and knowingly began to dismember it. He lay each piece in front of the student in the grass, taking care to mix up the order. The boy's face began to pale. Bit by bit Irvine disassembled the gun until the ground was littered with unrecognizable metal parts and pieces.

"Pop quiz," he said. "If you know it by heart, put it together." 

The response of silence gave him all the answer he needed.

"Lesson three," Irvine said. "Only trust what you can do with your own hands."

With the attention of the class focused on him in a way he had never had, he idly began picking up the pieces he had discarded, twisting and fitting them together. "You have to know your weapon as well as your own skills," he said as he worked. "You can't blame performance on your gun. Performance is entirely your responsibility - and that includes all of your equipment."

"I'll be holding each one of you responsible for things like this," he said, fingers flying as he talked. "You need to know what each part does and how it fits with the rest of the weapon. A sniper can't depend on anyone else. You're alone - and you have to be capable of acting alone. Independent."

In a matter of moments Irvine had reassembled the gun, tightened its fastenings, and fit it perfectly to his shoulder. "See?" The class was wide-eyed, following his every motion with amazement. 

He looked at each of them, noting the admiration reflected in their eyes. _They're impressed._ He gave them his crooked smile. "So like, your first test is going to be what I just did. You have half an hour to explore your weapon. If I point to a part, I want to know what it does. Technical names aren't important. Figure out how each part acts with the others."

The students blinked, and then fell upon their weapons, devouring the bits and pieces, sharing with each other what they knew.

Irvine leaned back. Teaching this class was much different than anything he had ever had to do. He was glad he had agreed to it, yes. But it was difficult to know that he was sending cadets down the same lonely road he had walked - the destiny that had brought him face to face with his own Matron through the barrel of a gun. _Stop it,_ he told himself sternly. That had been a once-in-a-lifetime chance.

Like most of the other surprises he had endured.

He had presented Squall with the mission and his misgivings about it, but the young Commander was so consumed in his other duties that he hadn't been able to give Irvine too much time. Squall had delayed the start of the sniper class for a few days in order to read the pamphlet; and when he did, his opinion was much like Irvine's. However, Squall didn't have the authority to completely cancel a mission on a whim - no matter how nervous it made him. He was trying to get Cid to pay some attention to the matter; but that always took a while.

And in the meantime, Irvine was left with six of Selphie's students, six guns, and a number of days.

He was trying not to be worried.

His gaze wandered around the bright Balamb fields, across the students relaxing in the sun or studying in the shade. There was so much happiness here - none of the underlying tension there had been at Galbadia Garden. Irvine wondered what the difference was; or if it had all just been in his mind.

His gaze landed on Selphie, sitting cross-legged on her rock, idly nibbling her pen as she pored over a particularly engrossing page. Her hair shimmered in the sun like a halo. She wrinkled her nose slightly as she finished and began scribbling something on the paper in her lap.

Irvine smiled. He could watch her for hours. And yet he could never tell her that. Watching from a distance, afraid to take that one shot. Afraid that he might miss.

Selphie's face lit up suddenly; Quistis approached, wearing her SeeD garb as well, carrying a stack of papers much like Selphie's (only bigger). The blonde approached her friend, smiling freely, and perched herself on the edge of the boulder. They were clearly having a conversation about their students; Selphie ruffled through her stack and brandished a paper in Quistis's face. The tall girl laughed and took it, mentioning something that made Selphie giggle.

Irvine simply sat, watching them. His old family. Quistis, the self-appointed older sister, trying to solve everyone's problems. Selphie, feisty as all get-out, the little sister he had always wanted to protect. Nothing had changed. 

A slight frown crossed Quistis's face, and she turned, asking Selphie something. The petite girl smiled and pointed over towards Irvine. Quistis turned her head and smiled.

"How long have you been watching us?" she called across the distance.

Irvine grinned. "Two of Garden's loveliest ladies, together in the sunshine?" he called back. "I'm sure I'm not the only one watching."

Quistis and Selphie both flushed and looked around fervently.

Quistis gathered her papers and came to sit next to Irvine, cool blue eyes surveying the cadets sprawled across the grass. "Special Instructor Kinneas," she said with a sarcastic smirk, "is this how you conduct your class?"

The students, currently panicking about their rifle-anatomy quiz, looked up at her with disbelief on their faces.

"If you'd like to sit in, Instructor Trepe, you're more than welcome," Irvine said with a smile. "But I doubt even you could assemble a Garden Classic faster than me."

"Though your offer is more than attractive," Quistis said, lips twisting upwards, "I think I have to refuse." She brushed a piece of blond hair out of her face. "Look," she said, "Squall wants to see you about something."

"Can it wait until after my class?" Irvine asked. "They go back to Selphie in about half an hour."

Quistis shrugged. "I'm not sure, but I'd guess so. I don't know of anything so pressing nowadays that it can't wait half an hour." She bent down next to one of the students; he looked up at her with panic scrawled across his face. "That's the cartridge casing," she said softly, pointing to the part the student was holding with confusion. "It attaches to that." Her long fingers tapped something partly buried in the grass. 

She stood up and gave Irvine a smug smile over her shoulder as she headed back towards Balamb. He shook his head. The student Quistis had helped was staring down at the parts in his hands, his face red.

"Another Trepie, eh?" Irvine asked quietly.

The kid flushed bright red and turned back to his rifle. "Not really," he protested, and Irvine decided to leave it at that.

A sound next to him made him look up; Selphie trounced over and dropped herself to the ground beside him, folding her legs beneath her. "Hi," she said softly. "What are they doing?"

Irvine scooted over next to her. "They have to memorize all the parts of the rifle and put it back together," he said quietly. "First quiz."

Selphie giggled. "You're worse than I expected, Vinny. Quiz on the first day?"

He poked her in the arm. "You can't call me Vinny, Instructor Tilmitt, you'll ruin my authority. And besides," he said with a wink, "I hear you're just as hard of an Instructor."

"Well, Instructor Kinneas," she said, making a fuss over the proper title, "I'm sure we only have the best in mind for our students."

"How are their papers?" Irvine asked under his breath. The students were purposely trying to keep their eyes cast down on their rifles.

"Abysmal!" Selphie said dramatically. "They can do sooooo much better than this!"

Irvine burst out laughing. "I'm sure they thought you were going to be an easy grader, darlin'. I bet they underestimated you."

Selphie giggled in response. "Just 'cause I'm cheerful doesn't mean I'm not tough!" She narrowed her eyes playfully at Irvine. "I'm _deceptive._"

"Most women are, Seff- Instructor Tilmitt," Irvine responded cheerfully. "Would you like to help me test them?"

One by one, Irvine called the nervous students forward; he dismantled their guns in seconds, and then conversationally asked them about the rifle as their shaking fingers pieced it back together. It was much more casual than the students had expected - almost a chat - and if they mislabeled something, Special Instructor Kinneas merely corrected them and explained the proper use. The sinking feelings in their stomachs slowly faded as they realized that, as intimidating as the man was, he was here to _help_ them, not punish them. Instructor Tilmitt, beside him, asked her own questions - but more out of genuine curiosity than anything. The students offered what they knew and Instructor Kinneas finished up anything they left out.

The 'quizzes' were done in record time. Irvine stood up and saluted his class; they responded with their SeeD salute, respectful smiles across their faces. "Wonderful day, class," he said. "I have confidence in you. Now go and take a break - get some hot dogs or something. You have ten minutes before I send you back to the evil clutches of Instructor Tilmitt."

Selphie giggled in a most un-Instructor-like way. She latched on to Irvine's arm with a wicked grin: "What did you say?"

Irvine made an _oh, I'm so scared_ face and waved his students away.

"I have to get ready for class," Selphie realized then; she dropped Irvine's arm and collected the essays that lay in the grass. Irvine bent down to help her, his long ponytail falling over his shoulders. "Where are you off to?"

"I've been summoned to meet with the High Commander," Irvine said wickedly.

Selphie hit him with her stack of papers. "You know he hates that," she warned.

Irvine gathered his stack to his chest. "Fine, then, you can't have these."

"Do I detect a challenge?" Selphie looked up at him, her eyes twinkling. For a moment his violet depths flashed in response - a wave of emotion - and then he was simply smiling.

"Any time, Selphie. Any time."

_You have no idea._

He handed her the stack of papers and noted the odd look on her face. _What?_ He gave her a smile - his winning cowboy smile - and noticed her cheeks turn slightly pink. _Do I detect a challenge? Certainly._ He winked. _Please. Challenge me. I promise you'll like it._

Selphie stuck her tongue out, ruining the moment. "You always tease me, Irvine. You don't have to try to win my heart, you know that?"

He feigned mock surprise. "Does that mean you're already mine?"

Her face completely blanked with surprise. Then, struggling to recover, she stammered: "You know what I mean."

_I wish I did._

But instead of giving in - letting the wall crumble - grabbing her in his arms and kissing the hell out of her - he summoned forth all of his restraint and simply handed her back the papers. "You're gonna be late, Seff," he said softly.

She still looked a little upset - _why?_ - so he reached out and tweaked her nose. "C'mon," he said. "Your class is waiting."

He walked her into Balamb Garden in silence. _Why is she so upset?_ Irvine kept stealing glances out of the corner of his eye, but Selphie was merely reading her papers, humming to herself. When she noticed Irvine watching her, she merely gave him that brilliant smile of hers.

He started to think. _Quistis was right. Everyone's got their own little shield. Selphie's trying to deflect me from knowing that anything's wrong._

_And I wouldn't recognize it if I didn't do it myself._

She stepped off at the second floor, waving a cheerful "Goodbye!" and running down the hall to her classroom. 

Irvine pondered as he punched the button to head to Squall's office. Why would his teasing bother Selphie? It wasn't as if he would _ever_ act on _anything_ with _her._ Didn't she know that? It was just his terrible, awkward way of expressing how he liked her. She should be used to it by now. 

But he didn't want to upset her. Maybe she just wanted to talk to the cowboy beneath the smile?

Sincerity. That he could do.

The doors opened and Irvine headed into the makeshift office. To his pleasant surprise, Cid was there, ruffling through the mess on his desk.

"Hullo, Irvine," Cid said, and Irvine hastily pulled himself into a salute.

"Don't worry about it."

Squall's voice was more cheerful than usual; Irvine saw the reason as he turned to face the other desk and found himself looking at a very cheerful Rinoa. She grinned and waved at him from where she was perched, cross-legged, on Squall's stunningly clean desk.

"Howdy, Rinoa," he said with a top of his hat. "Did you come all the way up here to clean Squall's desk?"

She stuck out her tongue and pointed a hand at him, fingers extended dramatically. "Don't make me summon my powers," she threatened theatrically. "I _am_ a sorceress, remember?"

"Are you allowed to make jokes about that, dear?" Squall asked under his breath.

Irvine looked between the two of them and headmaster Cid, who was watching the byplay with a faint smile. "So like, Quistis told me to head up here. What's the news?"

"Ah." Cid gestured to a chair which Irvine gratefully took. Squall remained seated behind Rinoa, perched on the desk. "We've reviewed the mission as requested," Cid began. "And we all noticed the same things you did. Poor planning, horrible strategy. I don't need to remind you," he said, suddenly serious, "that this all stays within these walls. This includes you as well, Miss Heartilly," Cid emphasized. "I'll allow you to stay, even though you're not certified SeeD, because I don't think you're much of a security threat. But we all must keep this to ourselves." Rinoa shook her head violently.

Cid began to pace the room in his familiar old habit. "We want to investigate this strange order - but we're not sure where to start. The request came from a quite genuine weapons-control mission in Galbadia - very authentic. All their information came from reliable sources. The campaign came in through Galbadia Garden; it supposedly was transferred over here because of our specialty sniper." Cid nodded his head at Irvine. "But through all of this, no one actually read the composed event? Who set up this mission? And how did it get past Garden?"

Irvine said without thinking: "It sounds like subterfuge, sir."

Cid nodded. "That's our thought as well. Somehow, someone in Galbadia Garden got a hold of the document and altered it carefully. Someone who wants to take out some SeeD cadets. Someone who wants to make Garden look bad; someone who knows that we're bogged down in bureaucracy and garbage after the Sorceress ordeal. And - worst of all - someone who has inside access to all our transcripts."

"Any ideas, sir?" _And what does it have to do with me?_

Cid shook his head. "We're not sure, and we don't want to investigate too hastily and scare them away." He paced to the window, looked out, and then turned. "We're trying to figure out the best way to act on this."

He looked at Irvine and smiled apologetically. "You're probably wondering what all this has to do with you and your mission, son." 

Irvine shrugged. "I was just trying to look out for Garden, sir," he said cautiously. "I don't really like the idea of poorly prepared cadets heading into a poorly planned mission. Too much danger."

Cid smiled out the window. "I appreciate your concern and your perceptiveness," he said. "I'm glad you caught it. And I have to admit I was surprised to hear it - not only because of the massive mistakes involved, but because I didn't have you pegged as one who cared too much about Garden." He turned and gave Irvine the typical SeeD salute. "I'm sorry, son. I misjudged you."

Irvine shrugged again. Inside he was getting a little nervous - and confused. _Cid didn't have to apologize - I never would have known what he thought had he not told me right now. What's going on?_

Squall coughed slightly, reminding Cid to get back on track.

"Ah, yes." Cid headed over to his desk and picked up a familiar manila folder. "As of now we're going to try to track down exactly where this order came from. But a mission is a mission, Irvine. We've revised the plan, and we're going to stick to the original training schedule. The snipers most likely aren't the best way to go about it - but we want to keep up the appearance of this training mission, let our little spy - if there is one - think we've fallen for it. Once we have finalized the actual plan for the weapons mission, we will reassign your squad appropriately."

Cid bit his bottom lip. "The main difference is this. Since the students are under your jurisdiction, you and Instructor Tilmitt will be the SeeDs handling this mission. Though you both currently have Instructor status, you're still SeeDs and still under Garden's command. Your mission will be to support your students as best you can." He opened the folder, glanced at the top page, and then snapped it shut. "As time goes on, hopefully we can discover whether this was a genuine mistake or if some evil force is behind it. You and Instructor Tilmitt will be briefed on the mission one week before we send you out. Until then you are to remain working with your students as initially planned."

Irvine nodded. His confused gaze met Squall's for a second - _why's it such a big deal?_ - and then he rose to leave.

"Irvine," Cid said, and the cowboy turned hastily, surprised at the familiar use of his name. "Thank you," the Headmaster said. 

Irvine, bemused, simply smiled. Then, on his way out, he had a thought and turned around.

"Headmaster?"

Cid looked up from his desk, surprised. "Yes?"

"Permission to discuss the mission with Instructor Tilmitt?"

Cid bent his head in thought, and then looked up with a decisive nod. "Yes. Let her know about the assignment."

Irvine headed back to his room, lost in thought. Did everyone assume that he was carefree and insincere? Frivolous? First Selphie, now Cid. And why would it bother him like this? He'd never cared before.

But Cid had kindly - if absentmindedly - pointed out something that Irvine liked to stubbornly ignore: people never knew how much he cared. About anything. It was part of his demeanor, yes; part of the wall he had constructed. He couldn't help it at this point. 

Irvine had spent his time flirting with life. 

He inserted his card into the slot on the door and slipped inside, absently dropping his things onto the couch. He looked down at the dark SeeD uniform and made a face; then made a hasty decision to jump in the shower.

But he couldn't stop thinking about it.

Couldn't and wouldn't.

It was what he got for being such a player - what he deserved. His attitude had been a feint to keep away the danger. So much like Squall, except that Irvine had never cared about anything.

Or admitted to it.

He had cared about plenty in his empty little life.

The hot water beat down on his back, trying to soothe out the pain of realization. Would no one ever take him seriously? What happened when the cowboy decided to settle down and get real?

Being a loner - a sniper - an independent, carefree, irresponsible maverick - that was a lie.

He was a lie.

But lying was safe. The truth got you hurt. Lying meant distance, and distance meant space, and space meant somewhere to run.

He shook his head, wet hair spattering droplets around his small bathroom. Heading into the bedroom, he grabbed an old baggy worn pair of jeans, a loose white button shirt. Got dressed. Ran a comb through the long wet hair that cascaded down his back. Collapsed on the bed.

He had finally made it somewhere he could belong - somewhere he could stay. Take root. Friends and family. Home for a cowboy. He only had to fight the facade long enough to convince everyone else he was for real.

Not a tumbleweed. Not a bullet, traveling at the speed of daybreak. A simple young man wanting nothing more than a place to be and people to have fun with. Someone who cared. Someone who could be cared about.

That was the key - this bridge, the two-lane highway. He had to be realistic, not frivolous. Serious, not flirtatious. Genuine. If he could prove how much he cared - how strongly he wanted to keep this little family together - how much of his emotion, his fiber and being, were tied up in the desire to just be happy with what they all had - if he could convince the others of what they had, then maybe they'd realize. They'd remember.

He was Irvine Kinneas, sincerity cowboy. 

And he wanted the others to care about him.


	6. Six: revelations

  
_good HYNE, this chapter took forever, and it's really bloody long! ...i really enjoyed writing it, though. LOTS of backstory, emotion, and all-around goodness. enjoy!_   
  
  


**Chapter Six**

  
  
  
  


There was a knock at the door, and it woke Irvine up.

In a daze, rubbing his eyes with one hand, he yanked the door open. Selphie stood there, dressed in yellow and jeans, carrying a binder full of papers that looked suspiciously like the essays she had been grading. She took one look at Irvine and her eyes widened; she clapped a hand over her mouth to keep in the half-giggle, half-gasp.

Irvine looked down groggily and realized that he must look unkempt - old, dusty jeans, unbuttoned white shirt. Long brown hair unbound, cascading down his back, falling into his face. All of the above rumpled from his inadvertent nap.

He rubbed the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly at Selphie's shock. "I must have fallen asleep."

"Looks like it," she said with a giggle. "Do you want me to go?"

_Not at all._ "Nah," he said with a yawn, "I'm already awake. Come on in."

"I just wanted to see what you were up to," Selphie said, setting the folder down and clasping her hands behind her back. She took a couple nervous steps and then said with a grin: "And you've forgotten about out party!"

Irvine laughed, throwing himself on the couch, stretching his long, lanky legs out on the cushions next to him. "No way, babe," he said. "I thought you had forgotten."

"_I thought you had forgotten,_" Selphie mimicked. "That's your favorite phrase." She emphasized each word with a poke of the folder. "You need to have more faith in us, Vin!"

_Ouch._ He shrugged it off with a smile, stretching vigorously. He noticed pink on Selphie's cheeks - _right, my shirt's still undone. Whoops._ But it would be too awkward to do it up now. He sat up and patted the couch next to him.

Selphie lit lightly on the cushions, tucking her legs delicately under her chin and crossing her ankles. She was _so_ cute. She set the folder down on the cushion between them and Irvine nabbed it.

"What are these?"

"Oh," she said, reaching for the folder. "Those are the essays - I'm handing them back tomorrow, but I'm having trouble with two of them. Well, I'm not having trouble grading them," she said with a playful grimace. "But I'm not sure what sort of comments to give them on how to improve. They're both in your class as well." She fished them out of the folder and presented them to Irvine with a flourish. "Can I have your advice?"

"You want me to read them?" Irvine took the offered papers, shaking his head and laughing slightly. "I doubt I'll be much help with grading, Seff."

"Just read them," she said. "One of them is the kid that was talking back last time."

"Talking back?"

She giggled. "The one that gave you the idea of the gun pop quiz," she said. "Some of the other students tattled on him to me." Her face grew serious. "I don't want him to have an attitude problem like Seifer," she said. "What can I tell him that'll help him without being insulting?"

Irvine was scanning the paper. "First off," he murmured absently, "tell the kid to check a grammar textbook."

Selphie laughed and scooted over on the couch, bending over the paper. Irvine's senses swam with citrus. "I did," she said, amused. "Look at this sentence." Circled in bright orange pen - Selphie's correcting color of choice - and underlined three times. "It doesn't even have a verb."

Irvine continued to read over her shoulder. "You need to tell him to take more pride in his work," he said slowly. "I mean, it's obvious that he gave this thing _no_ time or effort. Even I did better in my SeeD reports." He turned the page. "He just needs to understand that he can't coast through this stuff - it's a reflection of himself, of the kind of SeeD that he's going to be. Ask if he'd be proud to have this in his permanent file."

Selphie's eyes grew wide and then closed in a brilliant smile. "Irvine, you're brilliant!" She took the paper and whipped the orange pen out of the pocket of her crisp bell-bottoms, scribbling hastily. "That's just what I was looking for." She finished a sentence, paused, and looked up at him. "How did you know?" she asked softly.

He smiled wryly at her. "I got some similar comments in school as well," he admitted.

Her eyes widened again in mock shock. "You did _not,_" she said, teasing.

"I wasn't always a stellar student," Irvine said, leaning back comfortably on the couch. She was still so close to him... "They all thought I had an attitude problem," he continued; Selphie's head shot up briskly.

"An attitude problem?" she asked haughtily. "They don't know you, then. You've got the best attitude of _anyone_ I know!"

Irvine felt himself blushing. "I didn't, Seff," he pointed out gently. Then, with a broad smile, "I wasn't always the wonderful person I am now."

"Fine, Mr Wonderful," she said, throwing the other paper at him, "tell me what's wrong with _this_ cadet."

"Mr Wonderful?" Irvine raised an eyebrow. "I could get used to that."

Selphie relaxed and leaned back into the couch beside him, chewing her pen as she pondered over the right words - there. Irvine's warmth next to her was just so comforting. She'd known right away that he'd be able to help her with the essays. Just as he'd always helped her with everything else, always volunteering his time and effort to make sure everything she did was a success. What a friend.

_Friend?_

She bit down on the pen, hard. She didn't want to bother herself over _that_. It was just so nice, sitting here on the couch, enjoying his presence and his silence without having to think too hard...

He spoke up. "This kid's an arrogant jerk who didn't study. I'm not sure what to tell him."

She looked up, meeting his eyes over her knees. His handsome face was framed in wisps of soft brown, looking strangely clear without the shadow of the cowboy hat; and his crooked smile was doing very odd things to her heart..._stop it._ "You don't have any advice about arrogant jerks, then?"

He shrugged, turning his deep violet gaze back to the paper. "Not this one," he said. "What's wrong with it?"

She took it from him slowly. "I'm not sure. I had a whole batch of comments prepared for this sucker ...but then I thought maybe I was being too mean."

He laughed. "I don't think you can be too mean for this kid," he said. "Honestly. He needs to realize that this stuff isn't gonna cut it."

"But..." She was reluctant. "I don't want him to hate me."

"Seff, you're his Instructor." Irvine slowly moved the paper so he could look her in the face. "You're going to have to be a bitch at some point. You can't let him get off easy just because you want him to like you. He doesn't have to like you. He has to learn from you."

She chewed the end of the pen, still unsure. 

"Look," Irvine said softly, "you're spunky, fun little Selphie. No student is gonna hate you for long."

She looked up at him sharply, but couldn't tell whether or not he was teasing her.

"In fact," he continued, the familiar twinkle now present in his eyes, "I bet you get your own little clan of worshipers. Whatever will we call them?"

She giggled in spite of herself. "Like the Trepies, huh?"

"Exactly." He grinned. "A little squad that follows you everywhere and keeps track of all of your stats."

She grimaced. "Gross, Irvine."

"But what can we call them?" he mused, as if he hadn't heard her. "The _Tilmies_ doesn't exactly work. The _Selphites_, perhaps?"

"You're ridiculous!" She was blushing.

"My worst nightmare," he persisted. "Having the Selphites for competition. I'll have to figure out a way to get rid of them."

"You're _horrible!_"

"I'll send them all to Quistis!" He snapped his fingers. "Then I won't have to worry about it!"

She laughed. "I'm not the one with romantic love-sick cadets following me everywhere and swooning over my every move, Irvine dear."

He shook his head, grinning. "Neither am I."

"Oh, right," she scoffed. "One tip of the cowboy hat and they all come running."

He gave her a sidelong look. "Why do you think I'm not wearing it?"

Awkward pause.

"Look," he said, breaking the silence by tapping the paper. "Just tell this kid that you'll be expecting a better piece of work next time. Break it to him easy if you want. But break it to him."

"Whatever you say, Irvy," she murmured, bending over the paper. "I just want all of my students to like my class," she said. 

"You won't have to worry about that, Seff, sweetie." She glanced up to see his grin. "They'll love your class."

"I hope so," she said, vehemently underlining her comment and then tucking the papers away in the folder. "I just - I really want to be able to share everything we learned with them. I want them to understand everything. But I don't want them to - to talk about me like they do some of the other Instructors." She flushed. "Like I used to talk about my Instructors."

"What kind of a student were you, Seff?"

She bit her lip, thinking. "A decent student. I got good grades - but I really wasn't that smart, not like Quistis, I just worked really hard for it. And I was involved in all sorts of things over at Trabia." She smiled, reminiscing. "Trabian students were always more active, more involved. We had more spirit. Here in Balamb..." She shrugged. "I'm the odd one out!"

Irvine's favorite phrase, coming from her lips. Interesting.

Selphie smiled. "I was always trying to do better and better," she said. "My teachers all thought I was going to burn out. I mean, I wasn't top of the class - nowhere close. I just wanted to do everything I possibly could. Guess it still shows." She paused, and then asked: "Alright then, Vin, what kind of student were you?"

He laughed. "A bad one."

She rolled her eyes. "I know for a fact that's not true."

He shrugged. "Some stuff came naturally; but stuff I didn't understand, I wouldn't even try for. I'd only do what came easily and ignore everything else." He poked her arm. "Bet your grades were better than mine."

"We'll never know," she said mystically, a teasing smile crossing her lips. "But what did you do? What were you like?"

A thousand answers came to mind.

_A silly kid with a cowboy hat, playing a game. A boy using his good looks as a facade. Someone who spent their entire youth yearning for a daydream._

He shrugged and looked away. "I was a loner," he said.

She was scrutinizing him. "But what about all those pretty girls?"

_She's putting me on the spot. I can't take this._

Slowly he said, "I had friends, but no real friends. I had ...acquaintances. Dates. I never had anyone for real."

She blinked, suddenly realizing that he was being serious. "Irvine," she said softly. "I'm sorry."

_For what? I'd tell you anything._

He shrugged. "It's the truth. Not a big deal."

"You look upset."

"Nah." He stretched, trying to brush it off. "It wasn't the happiest of times, that's all."

She smiled. "I can imagine. I don't know what I would have done with no one to talk to at Trabia. Galbadia seemed so much more ...formal. And mean."

"It was very competitive," Irvine admitted. "Everyone was always trying to one-up everyone else. You just found something you were good at and they drilled it into you."

"The Best Shooter in Garden," Selphie murmured. "No wonder."

"Yeah," he said, a grin reappearing on his face. "I always liked guns, and once they found I had skill with them, there was no turning back. Not at all. They capitalized on everything you were good at."

"And being a sniper drew the ladies?" Selphie asked again.

Irvine looked at her quizzically, but she wasn't being petty or superficial - she genuinely looked interested. Interested in Irvine's past. He swallowed.

"It was a lot of things," he said. "I guess. I never figured it out - I just appreciated what it did for me."

"I'm sure you did," she said idly.

"I liked the company," Irvine said suddenly, and realized that it was the truth. _I was always alone - and when I found a way to get people to talk to me, like me, touch me - it was so tempting - _

She looked at him, smile spreading. "You were a womanizer because you were _lonely_?" She shook her head. "That's hard to believe."

"In a way, it was the whole Galbadian mind set - it was something I was good at," Irvine mused. "I don't know." Then he blinked - and stuck his tongue out. "And I was _not_ a womanizer," he said sulkily.

Selphie burst out laughing, a flash of radiance. "Yes, you were," she said, choking on her mirth, struggling to get the words out.

He feigned insult. "Was _not._"

She lost herself in giggles again. "Irvine," she managed to say finally, "it was the first thing they told me. 'Watch out for Kinneas, he's a skirt chaser.' And -"

"A _skirt chaser_?" Irvine started to laugh in response. "That was the best they could come up with?"

"See?" Selphie crowed triumphantly. "You _are!_"

Irvine was laughing with her, each of them fueling the other with amusement. Irvine finally sighed and lay back, correcting her gently: "Was, darlin'. Was."

"Sure, sure."

"I don't need to chase women any more," he said, starting to grin.

"Vinny," she said, shaking her finger at him, "I told you not to tease me like that."

She trailed off, gazing at him with an odd expression on her face. 

Then she grimaced, interrupting the moment. "I'm hungry."

"Have you had dinner yet?"

"Nope." She glanced at the clock.

"Good," Irvine said, standing up. "Let's order something for delivery. What would you like?"

"Oooh," she squealed, "let's get a pizza sent up!"

Irvine headed for the phone, throwing her a glance over his shoulder. "And then," he said suspensefully, "we can start planning our party!"

Selphie's excited cheep was his only response.

"I'm just calling the caf, is that okay?"

She nodded. "Get mushrooms on my half," she said.

Irvine patched in the call for the cafeteria, carefully giving his room number and the order - fancy that, they both liked mushrooms - and terminated the dial-up, saying, "it'll be no longer than twenty minutes, so - hey!"

Selphie had stretched out on the couch and nabbed the remote for his small TV. She was flipping through the channels, pretending to ignore Irvine - but the smile slowly spreading across her face belied her intentions.

"This is _my_ house," he said sternly, "and I get to pick the channels." He then proceeded to sit on her legs. "And I definitely get first dibs on couch space."

She stuck her tongue out and withdrew her legs, folding them up beneath her.

He held his hand out, twitching his fingers. "And?"

She chucked the remote at his head.

"Such a troublemaker," he murmured, smiling at her.

But Selphie wasn't watching the TV; he turned to look at her. Her head was cocked slightly to one side, giving her the look of some adorable little wild animal perched on the cushion. Her face was flushed from laughing and her eyes were bright as they studied him. Such a vibrant little creature - so full of life and spirit.

He realized he was staring.

"So," he said hastily, "about our party."

She blinked, coming back to reality suddenly. "Yeah," she said quasi-enthusiastically. "When do we want to have it?"

He shrugged. "I thought you talked to Rinoa."

"Well, yeah, but we didn't pick a day." She was absently twirling a piece of her hair around her finger, making it flare even more. "We could do it this weekend."

"Right." Irvine tapped his forehead as if making a mental note. "I'll go ask down at the caf if they can fix us up a picnic basket. We'll rent a car and take it to the beach."

Selphie grinned. "Zell will make us stop in with his ma."

Irvine grinned back. "That's fine. She makes the _best_ desserts."

"Irvine, is she Zell's real ma?"

The question caught him off-guard; he bit his lip, thinking. "I don't believe so," he said. "I remember the day he left the orphanage vaguely - I think Matron would have made a bigger deal about it if - you know?" He struggled with the words. "I think if - if any of our families had come back, she would have..." He trailed off, not knowing what to say or how to say it.

Selphie gathered her knees to her chin again, slender ankles crossed, arms wrapping around her legs. "Who left first?" she asked.

Irvine gave a half-smile. "You did."

She blinked.

"Come on," he said gently. "You were the cutest of all of us - so spunky, so full of life. Instantly adorable. The couple couldn't take their eyes off of you."

She blinked, one hand coming up to cover her mouth in shock. "Tell me about them, Irvine," she whispered.

He looked away, and she reached out, urgently, her hand covering his. "Tell me what you remember," she said.

"Seff..." Impulsively he reached out and grazed his fingers across her cheek, cupping her face in his hand. He stared into her eyes; they were sparkling with longing and desire. Sincerity. Desperation. "Are you sure?"

She nodded wordlessly, her hair grazing the tips of his fingers, her eyes wide as he continued to stare at her as if he were lost, or drowning, or something.

_Knock. Knock. _"Pizza?"

Irvine dropped his hand as if it were on fire and stood up from the couch. He opened the door; one of the younger cadets stood there, pizza box in hand. Irvine reached into his back pocket, counted out a couple bills, and handed them to the young student. He came over and set it on the small table beside the couch.

"Smells good," Selphie whispered, not quite recovered. "How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing," he replied, opening the box.

"You like mushrooms?"

The mundaneness of the question made him laugh, breaking the tension. "Of course," he said, pulling a piece out. "It's the best way to have your pizza."

They munched in silence for a while. Comfortable, companionable silence. For a while.

Selphie couldn't resist. "So I left first," she repeated over her slice. "What happened next?"

He chewed and swallowed. Some part of him couldn't quite believe that he was actually sitting on his couch in bare feet and jeans talking to Selphie Tilmitt about the past over pizza. And so calmly.

"You went first," he said, "and then Zell. And then Quistis, actually - the couple wanted a little girl that they could bring up 'prim and proper like a girl should be.'"

"Prim and proper?" Selphie made a face. "I wonder if that's what Quisty meant when she said things didn't work out with her family."

Irvine smiled. "Well, she sure is proper - but she's not girly at all," he agreed.

Selphie wiped sauce off of her chin. "And then - you?"

Irvine nodded. "We've already guessed that Squall and Seifer didn't get picked up by the time Edea founded Garden and sent them off. That's about it."

She reached for another piece. "Thank you," she said softly. "I really like hearing these stories." And then, as an afterthought: "Tell me if it upsets you, Vin, I don't want to disturb you. Or seem like I'm pushing. I just..." She sighed. "I really like having the holes filled in."

His mouth twisted. "Of course, Seff," he said, genuine concern in his voice. "Anything I can do for you, I will."

"Really?"

He nodded.

"I want to know everything," she gushed suddenly. "Tell me the first thing you remember!"

"The first thing ...about the orphanage?"

"Yeah!" And then she blinked, and quieted down. "Wait. You mean ...you remember ...before...?"

Irvine deliberately wouldn't meet her eyes.

Selphie gasped. "What do you remember? Tell me, tell me!"

_You don't know what you're asking._

"Is it your family?" Selphie was driven by an urge she didn't recognize. She didn't have her own past - so she wanted Irvine's.

"They were ranchers," he said quietly, "and we lived on the outskirts of a very small farming community. My parents were always taking in people they found - strays, refugees, renegades. People who got hurt by the war. I remember always having strangers at dinner."

He clenched a fist and released it slowly. "But at some point we must have helped the wrong person. Soldiers came to the house - I think they were from Esthar - and asked some questions I didn't understand. And then..."

Selphie's face was pale.

"And then I remember fire," Irvine said bitterly. "Flames everywhere. My mother shoving me into the secret room under the barn, and saying she'd be back with my sister..."

He closed his eyes. "And then I remember the orphanage," he finished.

"Oh..." Selphie's eyes were full of tears. Compassion engulfed her. 

"That's one memory I could do without," Irvine said, his voice harsh. He turned his head to Selphie and she saw surprisingly that his eyes were watery. 

He gave her a quirky smile. "That hat was my father's," he said softly, gesturing to the post on which the black hat rested above the suede jacket. "I guess the people who found me discovered it in the ...remains. Matron had some things in a box - gave it to me when I left."

Selphie gulped a little, trying to swallow the tears.

He looked at her, easily reading her mind and all too glad to change the subject. "I wonder if she has anything of yours?"

She realized he wanted to move on, forget about that horrible story. "I wonder," she said, her throat tight with sadness. 

"You were..." He turned his head away, as if in thought. "I think your parents were merchants," he said. "You were always talking about a store, as if you lived there. And you always wanted to play shopkeeper."

_Merchants._ Selphie closed her eyes, savoring the thought. _My parents ...they worked in a store._

"It's funny," she said impulsively, eyes still closed. "We all have such sad stories... and yet here we are, together again. It's like ...destiny."

She opened her eyes; Irvine was watching her with an odd hunger evident on his face. She reached over and grabbed his hand, giving it a friendly squeeze.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't know what I was asking. You didn't have to tell me."

He squeezed her hand back. "I've never told anyone that," he cautioned.

"Irvine," she said, "It's okay. You can open up. It's just me."

_'It's just me'?_

_That's what I'm so afraid of, Seff._

"There weren't many paths for us to choose," he mused. "We all came the same way. That's why we're still together. Clinging to each other. We're the only ones who understand."

"I'm ...lost," Selphie said, bemused. "The only ones who understand what?"

"Understand each other." Her little hand still rested in Irvine's; he absently stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. "We're all afraid of something. Quistis is afraid of failure. Squall is afraid of being left alone - of being weak. Zell's afraid of being hurt. You." He looked at her, squeezing her hand in apology. "You're afraid of not being liked."

She bowed her head. "True," she admitted. Then she looked up, her green eyes like daggers. "And you?"

He laughed a bitter laugh. "I'm afraid of everything."

_Afraid of rejection. Afraid of crumbling under pressure. Afraid of missing - missing the target, not making the shot. Being alone._

_Afraid of not being good enough. Of disappointing and being discarded._

"No, you're not."

Her voice was sharp, piercing through his morose thoughts. "You're the bravest person I know, Irvy," she said stubbornly. "You were always there for me, no matter how dangerous it was. You stood up for all of us. You brought us together."

"Seff..."

But she looked straight at him, her eyes flaring. "You are a gorgeous person, Irvine Kinneas," she said, adamant and emphatic. "Stop thinking about yourself like you're not."

He could only look at her, lost in the strength of that gaze - those sparkling eyes he remembered from childhood, now full of spirit and sorrow and love and rage and compassion and grief- all for him. He was drowning, and she was the lifeline. Selphie was an angel.

"Look what you've come through," she said, her words emphasized by the force in her eyes. "The rest of us got to forget - we got to ignore the past, that we were destined to fight everything near and dear to our hearts. You had to keep all that knowledge all by yourself. No wonder," her voice broke, "no wonder you're a loner..."

She threw her arms around him.

He patted her back, dramatically confused. 

"Don't be alone anymore, Irvine," she whispered to his shoulder.

He didn't know what to say. He had never expected Selphie to - to care so much - to be so dear, so touching, so cautious - to be someone he could depend on. He had never expected to open up to anyone - least of all her. This was impossible. His heart was melting into her arms...

"Irvine..."

She looked at him and suddenly, inexplicably, grinned.

"Only you and I could have a sincere moment over pizza."

He had to smile at her, and she started laughing, relieved at his smile.

"This is the best conversation I've ever had," she said, almost cheerful. 

He scoffed at that, teasing her lightly, and she reached out to squeeze his hand again. "I'm serious. Let's talk like this all the time, Irvy." Her gaze dropped to the couch. "You're the first person who has ever talked to me like ...well," she said with a wry smile, "like I'm not a ditz."

He smiled at her. "No way, Seff. You're brighter than anything. You just catch people off guard." _Like me._

"But you..." She smiled. "You trust me."

"I guess I do."

They sat, looking at each other, hand in hand on the couch. Both smiling in a faintly silly way. Both secretly insanely pleased with the other. Both horribly confused.

Selphie said softly, "I should be getting back."

"Nah," Irvine said. "Stay and keep a cowboy company."

She flicked her eyes to the hat, resting across the room, and then back to Irvine. "The cowboy's not here tonight," she replied.

_Which one do I like better?_

Irvine smiled. "He'll come back if you want him to."

"I like his other side, too," she said with a silly grin, squeezing his hand. "But really - it's late. We've been talking all night."

Irvine glanced at his clock - and swore.

"We really _have_ been talking all night," he said, chuckling. "You and I both have class tomorrow." _I forgot to tell her anything about the mission. Tonight's not a good night, anyway._ "Do you want me to walk you home?"

"Nah." Selphie stretched and stood up. "It's not far."

"Thought I'd offer," he said, with a gentlemanly smile.

Selphie gathered her papers. "Hope I don't wake Quistis," she said, a sheepish smile on her face; it faded as she realized suddenly: "I hope Quistis isn't worried about me - it is kind of late."

"She'll figure you're out with a handsome man," Irvine teased.

"And so I am," Selphie said quickly, before she lost her nerve. Standing on her tiptoes, she gave Irvine a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Good night, cowboy," she whispered, and let herself out.


	7. Seven: missions and admissions

  
  


_This story has literally taken over my life - I feel like I've been writing in every spare second I have (...which is pretty true). I'm glad you all like it! Thanks for all the feedback - please do continue to let me know what you think._

_But on that note - sorry about the "delay" in updating (I've been adding chapters like a crazy person, I know, and I'm sure you guys have come to depend on it, right? heh heh). The sun came out in Cleveland today - which never happens - and I was out enjoying it. Hope you didn't mind waiting for this one! _

  
  
  
  
  
  


Chapter Seven

  
  
  
  
  
  


"Aww, Quistis."

"No way, Zell."

"Just one?"

"It's not my fault you were late." Quistis primly crossed her legs and lifted her can of soda to her lips to hide the smile.

Zell's shoulders slumped. "I didn't know they were closing early!" he exclaimed in his usual fashion. "And you're never gonna eat all those hot dogs!"

Quistis's eyes flashed above the soda, meeting Zell's. "Is that a dare?" she asked nonchalantly. "I can certainly eat all these hot dogs. What are you putting on the line?"

"No, Quistis," Zell insisted, almost whining. "I don't want _you_ to eat the hot dogs. I want to eat them myself."

Quistis rolled her eyes and slid the plate across the table to Zell. "You'd better leave some for Selphie," she insisted as they began to disappear.

"Better save some what for me?" Selphie asked as she threw her bag into a waiting chair and sat down beside Quistis. "Ooh, hot dogs. Yum."

"I'm giving my first real test today," Zell said through a mouthful.

"Hah!" Selphie covered the bun with massive amounts of ketchup. "I already gave an essay. And Irvine gave a pop quiz!"

"I'm nervous," Zell whined. "Gimme another 'dog, Q?"

"Hot dogs don't help your nerves," Quistis said prissily. Zell pouted and finally she gave in, tossing the last bun at him. "Don't come to me when you're sick to your stomach like last time," she warned.

"Mmmf." Zell chewed and swallowed. "Who am I, Zone? I can handle my stomach."

Selphie glanced at her watch. "Crap," she said, "I have to run - Festival Committee meeting. Thanks for lunch, Q."

"Any time, Fee."

They watched as she ran happily through the caf, waving at a table of students in the corner; their faces brightened at the cheerful greeting from cute little Instructor Tilmitt and they all waved happily. 

"How can she be so awake?" Quistis murmured, her lips barely moving. "She's been out late every night this week."

"With who?" Zell wiped ketchup from his chin.

"Over at Irvine's," Quistis said, still watching Selphie. She had paused to chat with one of the boys at the table - obviously from her class - and then smacked her forehead, remembering the meeting. She turned hastily, calling out a goodbye - and literally ran into Irvine's chest.

He caught her as she lost her balance, giving her a silly smile.

She grinned, hanging onto his arms for support. "Thanks, Vin. I have to run."

He let her go and she took off, throwing a glance over her shoulder to say goodbye. Irvine sighed, straightened his cowboy hat, and headed over to sit with Zell and Quistis. 

The students at the corner table were giving him glares, and he gestured over to them with a smile: "Is that the first batch of Selphites?"

Quistis looked at him, confused, and then burst out laughing. "Selphites?" she said finally when she caught her breath. "You're ridiculous."

"Hey, you have your own," he said with a shrug. "So does she."

"You guys all have your little clans," Zell said, feigning bitterness. "Nobody likes me."

"I know one girl who likes you," Quistis teased.

Zell's head shot up. "Who?"

Irvine tried not to laugh. "Well, she has brown hair, and she works in the library..."

"And she's always wearing a pigtail," Quistis finished.

Zell looked at them, confused. "But I know her. She doesn't - heeeeey!"

He realized they were teasing him and tossed a napkin at Quistis; she primly deflected it before it hit her in the forehead. Irvine had to laugh at Zell's indignant reaction. 

"Hmph." The blond boy crossed his arms over his chest, head dropping. "You guys can just go back to your Trepies and ...whatever."

Irvine tossed the crumpled napkin back at Zell. "I don't have any admirers, buddy. So don't worry."

Zell looked at him in disbelief. "You've got all the girls!"

Irvine threw furtive glances over his shoulders. "What girls? I sure don't see any. Disappointing."

Quistis laughed and teased, "Well, I know a girl who likes you, too."

Irvine stolidly raised an eyebrow.

Zell laughed. "Yeah, even I know this one. She has brown hair, and she works here, in Balamb..."

"I don't want to steal your girl, Zell," Irvine said, oblivious.

"She's an Instructor," Quistis continued, "and she's always wearing yellow..."

Irvine looked straight at her, his gaze mildly amused. "You're in a good mood this morning, Q," he said. "Any reason?"

She smiled and sipped her drink. "It's not morning any more, Irvine dear," she said.

"Is that enough to brighten your day?"

Quistis shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I slept well last night."

Zell stood up suddenly, his eyes locked on the door. "I've gotta run," he said hastily, almost tripping over his chair in his hurry.

Quistis and Irvine both turned to see him hustle out the door and catch up with a familiar cadet in navy blue, brown hair pulled back in a familiar pigtail that bounced when she walked. The two friends turned to each other and burst out laughing. 

"Zell's a dear," Quistis said, hastily wiping her eyes, "but he's not the brightest."

"Don't be too hard on him," Irvine said, scanning the table for food. "Not everyone can be a genius like you."

She flushed and smacked him. "Go get yourself some food," she ordered. "And then come back, I want to talk to you."

"Spending time with a lovely lady? I wouldn't miss it."

Quistis grumbled cheerfully and gave Irvine a firm push toward the cafeteria window. He returned a few minutes later with a hamburger and steaming fresh fries; Quistis nabbed one before he could sit down and popped it in her mouth with a grin.

"Tsk tsk, Instructor," Irvine said gently. "You wouldn't rob a poor SeeD of his lunch, now, would you?"

She sipped nonchalantly on her can of soda, giving him the patented Trepe look. Irvine shrugged and settled into his lunch.

"You've sure been keeping my roommate out late," Quistis said casually. Irvine could hear the weight of her words, however, and inwardly winced. _What is this, the third degree?_

"Has it been keeping you up?" Irvine asked innocently.

"Of course not, twit," she said endearingly. "I'm just curious about you two."

"Nosy little Quisty," Irvine murmured. 

"Oh, can it." Quistis leant over and took another fry. "Everyone's intrigued. Is it true love?"

Irvine stuck his tongue out. "You sound like Rinoa."

Quistis make an odd retching sound. "Shoot me."

"Heh." Irvine chuckled gently. "Quite the insult, eh, Q?"

Quistis was flushed a little red; she pushed her hair out of her face, saying quickly: "No, sir, get back to the point. What are you doing all night with my roommate?"

"Do you really want an answer to that?"

Her head snapped up, glaring; then she saw the sparkle in his eyes and had to giggle. "No way."

"No." He lifted his hands as if in defense. "No way. We've just been ...talking."

_Night after wonderful night, Selphie curled up on the end of the couch, listening to stories about the past. Asking questions. Absorbing information - no, not just absorbing; reaching out and grabbing it, swallowing it, devouring every little fact and then begging for more. Sparkling eyes, laughter and tears. Citrus and sunshine. And someone who finally cares enough to listen._

"Talking about the past," Irvine finished. "Selphie wanted to know more about ...where she came from, what happened to her. What happened to all of us. That's all."

Quistis sighed, her eyes strangely dulled. "The past," she said softly.

"She wants a past," Irvine said gently. "I think she'll take any past she can get." He reached out and patted Quistis on the arm. "We're just hanging out, Q. Nothing to worry about. If you'd like to come, we can all talk."

Quistis smiled wistfully. "I'd ruin it," she said. "Selphie has been happier than I've ever seen her in the past week, Irvine. Whatever you've done for her - she appreciates it. I couldn't intrude on that."

"Why not?" Irvine shifted closer. "We were all there, Q. My memories are for everyone - or, at least, anyone who wants them." He grinned. "They come free with the incredible package that is me ...or at least cheap," he amended with a wink.

Quistis gave him a deadpan glare, and he threw his arms wide, laughing. "C'mon, Q, come and get it while it's fresh!"

Her jaw dropped. "I don't believe you just yelled that in the middle of the cafeteria," she said.

Irvine flushed, but smiled playfully. "C'mon, Quisty. I'm just trying to get you to smile."

She gave him a half-hearted grin. "It works better on Fee than me, I'm sure. But thanks."

He settled back into the chair, concerned. "Quist, what's wrong? You were in a stellar mood three minutes ago. Don't tell me you're bipolar."

She sighed. "It's - it's nothing, Irvine. Just thinking about everything. The past and the present. And the future."

"Heavy stuff," he replied. "Want some ice cream?"

"Yes, please."

Irvine dashed up to the counter and returned just as quickly, slapping two bowls of creamy vanilla down on the table. Quistis managed a smile.

"Look, Q," he said kindly. "I know you don't like to talk about things - but if you need me, I'll be around. Seff's got duties tonight, so I'll probably be working on the papers for my class."

Quistis stabbed at her ice cream with a spoon. "You're making the snipers write papers?"

He shrugged. "Why not? I'm making them diagram the guns, really, so it's not a real paper." He swallowed a spoonful of ice cream and laughed. "I got jealous, what with all the grading you guys were doing."

Quistis gave a good-natured groan. "Don't remind me," she said, finally laughing. "You should see the stuff I've leveled on my kids. I have no idea _what_ I was thinking!"

"What are you making them do?'

She ticked off on her fingers. "Oral reports on Junction Theory, long papers on Limit Break Theory and a lab on Ability Junction. Ugh!"

"Good Hyne, Q," Irvine said, tucking away his ice cream. "I don't think even I could pass those classes!"

"It's not enough," Quistis said, shaking her head, glowing golden tresses flying. "You should have seen their first reports on Junctioning. I mean, everyone knows how to do it, but you'd think they'd never heard of the word _strategy!_"

Irvine laughed. "Quist, not everyone got the in-field experience that we did. They'll be alright."

"We had to learn by trial and error," she replied. "And we all got a couple bumps on the head from having the wrong magic in the wrong place at the wrong time. What if someone gets hurt?"

"Look, Q, if Squall had gotten hurt on the voyage, whose fault would it have been? Not yours, not mine. Not his Instructors'. Not Garden's. It's his fault."

Her face flamed bright red. 

Irvine belatedly realized what he had been saying. _Quistis _was_ Squall's Instructor ...oh dear._ "Quist ...oh, Q, you know what I mean," he said softly. 

"These kids are going out into the world to fight for us," Quistis murmured. "I have to do everything I can."

"There's no one out there more capable than you," he said, and realized that he was telling the truth.

She looked up at him, her eyes full of questions. "Are you serious?" He nodded; she bowed her head, resting it in her hands. "I don't think so, sometimes," she said. "They told me I ...lacked good leadership qualities. That I was incapable of handling real problems." Her eyes flared momentarily. "Seifer." And then she laughed, bitterly. "And even Squall."

Irvine shook his head. "You couldn't have handled them," he said. "Not even Headmaster Cid could handle them. It was - even back when they were young, they knew all the right words to get at each other. It just ...it just happened on your watch, that's all."

"If I ...I could have controlled them," she said. "But I didn't use the authority I had."

"It's okay, Quisty," Irvine said. "You were young. And besides, they were your friends from the orphanage - some part of you must have remembered."

"I was certainly always drawn to them," she muttered.

She was withdrawing now; Irvine stood up to leave, recognizing the look of someone who wanted to be alone. "I should get going, Q. I have to go check on the range they're putting together for me." He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. "Try to cheer up again. And if you can't, I'll be around tonight."

She smiled up at him. _When did he become so kind? So - sincere? Hanging out with Selphie is doing wonders for him, I guess._ "I'll keep that in mind, cowboy."

He smiled, tipping his hat with a black-gloved hand.

Irvine ambled along, his slow pace suiting his mood. He passed a giggling group of girls and gave them the usual smile-wink before he realized what he was doing. _It's just politeness,_ he said, smiling at himself. Since when was he such a square?

He found himself heading outside to the small plot of land that Cid had commandeered as a practice range. He had offered to hire some engineers, but Irvine had wanted to put it together himself. He remembered the place he had trained at Galbadia - both its good and bad points - and wanted to improve on that system.

Irvine had a good mind for design. He had always liked working with his hands, and at times it seemed that ideas just presented themselves, waiting for his somewhat limited skill to implement them. He had been working on the training field in his spare time all week; his poor fingers were blistered where they broke out of his black gloves. But he had managed to build a nice stand and several intricate targets. He was putting the finishing touched on one now.

He found himself whistling as he lay on his back beneath the wooden contraption, connecting the wires that would enable him to remotely control the target's movements. There was something relaxing about this design work that pleased him - he liked the challenge, the organization of the invention. It required both creativity and perseverance; Irvine had the perfect combination of both (although neither alone were strong points). 

He had created this set of targets with basically his bare hands; they were all rigged to a control he would wield. The plan was to interconnect the dummies so that once one was hit, the others reacted accordingly. If the system worked, it would be the most fantastic training center ever. But he wasn't so sure it would work.

A set of heavy footsteps approached, making Irvine lay down his tools and peek out from beneath the dummy. To his surprise, Squall stood there, carrying his typical stack of papers but wearing a very atypical smile.

"Hey," Irvine grunted, "gimme a sec."

"No hurry," Squall said, his eyes surveying the field. "I figured you'd be here; Selphie says you've barely left all week."

Irvine scooted out from beneath the contraption carefully; his face was a little smudged with dust. Squall smiled a bit. The cowboy set his tools back into the box carefully and picked up his hat from where it lay on the ground beside the toolbox. 

Irvine grinned up at Squall from where he sat on the ground. "What can I do for you, commander?"

Squall winced. "Not call me that, for starters," he said, and then to Irvine's surprise lowered himself to the ground as well. "I have the report on that mission," Squall said. "I thought I'd come down and check on you. Cid's still not sure that you can do this by yourself."

Irvine laughed. "Neither am I, man."

Squall's eyes surveyed Irvine's handiwork, taking in all of the painstaking detail. "I'm impressed," he admitted finally. "Looks like you know exactly what you're doing."

"Well, I sure know exactly what I _want,_" Irvine replied amiably. "Whether or not it works is a different story."

Squall bent forward to peer underneath one of the other dummies. "This is incredible, Irvine," he said, and shook his head. "I never got any of this system-design crap."

Irvine, taken aback a little by Squall's openness, said genuinely; "It's one of the only things I ever understood, so don't be jealous."

Squall actually laughed.

"See, they're all connected - I hope." Irvine gestured widely. "The plan is to have them react accordingly to each shot - not only where it hits, but where it comes from, and such. You know, if the kid misses the head, they all duck and the mission's blown."

"Sounds complicated," Squall said in disbelief.

Irvine laughed. "Yeah. So like, I'm not sure if it'll work. But if it does, it'll be awesome."

Squall shifted to look at the wiring covering the back of another model. "How did you think of all this?"

"I had plenty of time to dream this all up in Galbadia," Irvine replied. "It got pretty boring on their shooting range; I spent my hours dreaming up wacky stuff to do."

Squall laughed again. "I never would have guessed," he said, and then corrected himself; "Well, I should have. You did help repair that stage for Selphie."

Irvine flushed. "I only helped," he protested. "The FH people did most of it. Honestly."

"What happened to the arrogant cowboy who was only out for attention?"

Irvine froze; and then he realized that, against all odds, Squall was making fun of him! "Oh, he went out to lunch," he said, chuckling. "He'll be back in a little bit if you want to wait."

Squall made a face. As if he had just remembered, he held out the top folder of his pile. "Here," he said, "this is a rewrite of the mission that you and Selphie are going on."

Irvine reached out and took the folder. "Going on?" he asked. "Last I heard we were just going along to supervise."

"Ah," Squall said. "This is your briefing, I guess."

"A real mission?"

Squall stretched his long legs in front of him, grimacing. "I guess."

Irvine looked up at him. "Why's it a real mission now? What are you going to do with the SeeDs waiting for a field exam?"

Squall sighed. "I don't know," he said bitterly, and then paused. 

"I'm sick and tired of them expecting me to do all the dirty work without knowing what's really going on. For one, it's impossible. And it's also rude."

He turned to Irvine. "I'm thinking of giving the job up."

Irvine's jaw dropped. "For real?"

Squall turned away, staring at one of the dummies. "I told Cid last week that I just wasn't cut out to be a leader this way. He told me that I can't just quit out of nowhere, but he's willing to transfer me over to Security and Intelligence."

Irvine whistled. "That's hard-core," he said. "So like ...who would be Commander?"

"I'm sure I'd still keep the title," Squall said. "But I know that Cid is trying to retire, and I wanted him to know that I have no desire to be Headmaster. He'll have to find someone else."

"You want to do Intelligence?" Irvine was still baffled. "That's dangerous, and complicated, and hard. Headmaster's gotta be a cushy job..."

Squall shifted his legs again. "I'm sick of leading," he admitted. "I just want to be able to do something that doesn't put me in the spotlight. And..."

He paused, as if gathering his courage, and then said: "And with Rinoa trying to be a SeeD..."

"I see," Irvine said. "You don't want to be the one who gives her the orders."

"Not only that," Squall added. "If I'm head of Intelligence, I can recruit her. We can work together. She's really bright, you know - spends all her spare time reading, thinking up those insanely complicated plans. She'd be fantastic. We could really do something for Garden."

Irvine smiled. Here was a completely different Squall - he was struggling, yes, but he was being open. And honest. And almost romantic.

"Don't tell anyone," Squall said suddenly, brandishing a finger at Irvine. "I'm not really sure why I told you," he admitted. "Nobody else knows about this. But Quistis ...she saw that something was on my mind and suggested I talk it over with somebody. And then she suggested you. I guess."

"Quistis is too observant for her own good," Irvine said lightly, and Squall laughed.

"True. But eventually it'll get her somewhere. She's a good Instructor, but she'd be better elsewhere."

Squall stood up, brushed the dust from his pants, and gathered the rest of his folders. "That's your briefing," he reiterated, gesturing at the folder. "Make sure you read it over. Selphie's getting one as well. Not quite sure when the mission is."

"What happened to the old mission?"

Squall shrugged. "Whatever. Maybe it's in there. I have no idea."

He turned around and left. Irvine shrugged himself, carefully filed the folder underneath his toolbox, and scooted back underneath his project.

He worked all afternoon, lost in the intricacy and complexity of his constructions. It was something mindless that he could do, and so far the results were spectacular. He would have to gather together more parts, though, and that meant either heading to a store or heading out to find the monsters that he knew could be converted into what he needed. Neither was particularly appealing at the moment. A shower, however, was very attractive, so he headed home.

He had just settled himself at the dinner table, fresh coffee in hand and mission folder at the ready, when there was a knock at the door.

"Yeah?"

Quistis opened it cautiously. "I smell coffee," she greeted him.

"Help yourself." He gestured to the pot in its little shrine, bubbling happily. "There are other cups over there."

She shut the door behind her and headed over, choosing a dark mug that read _Chicks Dig Guns_ and filling it to the brim.

"Someone likes their coffee black?"

"Cream and sugar are for pansies." Quistis came over and sat at the table, removing the bag she had slung over her shoulder. "I brought my grading," she said in explanation. "But I figured we could hang out for a while. If you don't mind."

Irvine raised an eyebrow. "A lovely lady invites herself into my house? Who am I to say no?"

Quistis rolled her eyes. "I am not trying to seduce you, Irvine," she said, mock sternness in her voice.

He slumped his shoulders in an imitation of Zell. "Aww, man."

She snorted, sipping at the coffee. "You should know by now, dummy."

"So kind," Irvine said sarcastically. "No wonder I love your company so much."

She stuck out her tongue, pulling a large stack of papers out of her bag. Then she noticed the folder in front of Irvine - "A _mission?_"

He shrugged. "I guess so," he said cautiously. "It keeps changing."

"What keeps changing?" In a flash Quistis had entered what Irvine affectionately called Instructor-Mode - asking pointed questions, gathering information behind those sharp eyes. It was something Irvine respected, a way of thought that he would never be able to control.

He assumed it wouldn't hurt to tell her. "Well, initially I was training the snipers in order to get two or three that could carry out a specific mission - most of Selphie's class was up for a field exam, and someone had filed for a bust on an illegal weapons operation. So they called me in to train the necessary gunmen and Seff and I were going to be support. But then I read the mission and something was seriously wrong - like, whoever wrote it was either dumb or out to embarrass Garden. So I reported it." Quistis's eyes narrowed as she collected the thoughts; Irvine continued.

"I guess it got looked over and reviewed like I'd hoped. From what I know, Cid thinks it's subterfuge - somebody inside Garden got a hold of the exam and decided to edit it a little." He shrugged. "I haven't read this yet; apparently they're sending me and Seff out on an actual investigation."

Quistis bit her lip in thought as she processed the data. "Someone wanting to embarrass Garden ...get rid of some SeeDs ...and their famous Instructors, who would be proctoring ...sounds dangerous."

"I don't think Seff knows yet," Irvine said, genuine concern in his voice.

"A-ha!" Quistis grinned triumphantly. "I knew we'd end up talking about her!"

"She's going on the mission," Irvine said innocently.

"We're going to talk about her anyway," Quistis decided, and put her paper down.

"Bossy, aren't we?"

"Well, I just came over here to pump you for information," she said. "I want to stay ahead on my gossip."

"That's quite petty, Instructor." Irvine leaned back in his chair. "What if I were to pry about your private life?"

Quistis barked out a quick laugh. "I have no private life," she said, amused. "I'm 'Career Garden'. All I do in my spare time is ...more work."

Irvine's lips twisted. "Poor Quisty. You need a man to sweep you off your feet."

Her lips curled upward in an odd smile. "You should stop saying things like that. I'm here to see if you're worthy of my poor roommate."

Irvine feigned shock. "A test? But Instructor Trepe, I'm not even in your class."

She dropped her pencil on the table. "Look. Let's lose the facade and just talk, okay?"

He was a little taken aback. "Why so serious?"

Quistis rested her elbows on the table, chin balanced on her closed fists. "Maybe you haven't noticed," she said sternly, "but Selphie is in love with you."

Irvine blinked.

"And I swear," she said, a hint of bitterness in her voice, "if you are only playing with her - if you're just seducing her, you'll have to deal with me."

His face belied his shock. "Q... Quistis, I don't believe this." He shifted in the chair. "You really don't trust me?"

She met his eyes fiercely. "I don't know you as well as you know me, Irvine. I don't have the memories you do. All I have is the information I've been able to gather - and that information makes you out to be a dangerous character."

"Quistis," Irvine said in disbelief, "have you ever bothered to get information from me?"

She paused, and he continued stubbornly. "First of all - she isn't. Second of all - I'm not what you think I am."

Quistis's eyes flashed. "First of all - she is. And second of all - prove it."

Irvine collapsed back in his chair, sighing. "This is going to be one hell of a conversation, isn't it?"

An evil smile spread across Quistis's face. "It sure is," she said. "And I'm not letting you get off easy."

"I need a drink," Irvine muttered.

"Bring it," Quistis said.

He looked at her in shock. "Surely the Instructor doesn't drink?"

She scoffed. "I've been attending SeeD banquets since I was twelve. I don't drink often - but I know how to hold my liquor, cowboy."

"Is that a challenge?"

Irvine stood up and went to his cupboard, quickly fixing up a couple of rum-and-colas. Quistis took a prim sip of hers and deemed it worthy. Irvine, gathering up his courage, downed half of his in one gulp.

"Now you're going to tell me about Selphie," Quistis said.

Irvine rolled his eyes. "No wonder we called you bossy little Quisty."

He stared at the ice cubes tinkling around in his glass. He didn't want to have this conversation with Quistis - but part of him admitted it was time to open up. He was just scared. He trusted her, yes. But ...this was different. Personal. Secret.

She was watching him, waiting for an answer, and he muttered: "What is there to tell?"

"Look, Irvine, I'm going to push, because there's something I have to know," she said. "I'm sorry in advance, cause I'm sure you'll hate me in the morning."

She idly tapped at the side of her glass with a long fingernail. "But I need to know what's going on - for my own peace of mind more than anything. Selphie ...well, Fee's been so happy lately. I couldn't bear it if you were just playing a trick on her."

She took another drink and then looked into Irvine's sullen face. "So just talk to me. Tell me what's on your mind. Tell me something I don't know."

He raised his glass to his lips. Quistis sighed. "I just want you to understand - I know I'm meddling where I shouldn't. But Selphie was the first person to really accept me as I am. She's the first real friend I had. I feel like her big sister; I'm just watching out for her." She took another sip. "I know you are too. But ...you understand."

Irvine downed the rest of his drink and said bravely, "I've been in love with Selphie Tilmitt since I was three years old."

Quistis blinked.

He stood up to pour himself another. "She was my best friend. We were inseparable. She had the best ideas and I was the only one who could make them happen. We were family to each other. When she left, it shattered my little-kid world."

He swallowed, scowling at the bitter taste. "All through my stay with my foster family and my training at Galbadia I couldn't stop thinking about her. She grew as I grew, a little dream inside my head. When I was younger, I imagined I could still talk to her. My parents got frustrated with me and my daydreaming; I had been so much happier at the orphanage, and they knew it."

He took another bitter swallow, unable to stop, the truth finally pouring out. "So I went to Galbadia for my training. I had finally admitted to myself that the past was past - it was over, lost permanently. But in the back of my head was Selphie - always. I missed her - all of you, but I missed her like nothing else. So I started trying to fill the holes." 

He gave a bitter laugh at his now-empty glass. "Guns, women, and booze. The easiest escape routes. But those memories didn't go away. Everything I did in that new life was done under her influence. Every woman was subliminally compared to her - and came up short. I shot and reloaded, unable to find exactly what I was looking for."

Irvine sighed. "And then I found her - and she didn't remember anything. She didn't know me. No one knew me. I was thrown from one unsure world into another. I had finally convinced myself it was all a dream, see; and then you all came back. But you didn't fit in the holes anymore - you were new and old at the same time. It was like a nightmare."

He looked up at Quistis, his eyes both defiant and defeated. "Is that what you wanted to hear, Quisty? There's the happy story of my life. There's the truth. Does it help your theory?"

Her voice was soft. "Why don't you tell her?"

Irvine groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I can't, Q. There have been plenty of women in this cowboy's life - too many, probably. But this..." He sighed. "This is Selphie."

He looked up at her. "She's the last shot, Quistis. The biggest target of my life." He sighed and whispered, "What if I miss?"

"So you're not even going to try?" Quistis asked angrily. Her glass was empty as well, and her cheeks were slightly flushed. "You're not even going to tell the girl how you feel?"

"How can I?" he asked, just as angry. 

"You make her happy!"

"Selphie loves _everyone,_ Quistis," Irvine said, his voice upset. "She has the biggest heart of anyone I've ever seen. She's selfless. I'm not. What would she -"

"That's bullshit!" Quistis's eyes were sparkling. "You've taken care of her ever since you came with us. You went with her to the Missile Base. You helped her put on the concert of her dreams. You stayed at her side all through Esthar. Even when we were traveling in Balamb, you stayed right beside her, trying to disguise your purpose by checking out all the other girls - but I noticed. You're her best friend, Irvine. And it's made her so happy just to be with you."

Irvine shook his head, the hair from his ponytail falling into his face. "So we're friends," he said resentfully. "What else can I ask?"

"Dammit," Quistis said, the flush rising in her face, "it's right in front of you and you can't even see it. _Fee is in love with you._ You're an idiot!"

The alcohol was rushing to his head now; he had inhaled his drinks, feeling the need for liquid courage, and was now feeling the effects. The heat was burning in Quistis's face as well as she finished her second drink. "I should kiss you right now to shut you up," he said.

She looked at him, surprised, and burst out laughing. "You just confessed your undying love for my best friend and you want to kiss me?"

Now that he had said it, it was very tempting. "You don't seem to care."

She shook her head. "As nice as it would be, I think I'll say no."

He gave her a wry smile. "That's usually how I got the girls to stop asking questions," he admitted finally.

Quistis stood up, gathering her papers into her bag. "Look, Irvine," she said, choosing her words carefully. "You can't keep this up forever. I know you don't want to keep it up forever. You need to find a way to tell her."

"I told you, I can't." He was whispering now, upset. Too much to think about.

"Well, you can't play with her heart," she said fervently. "Just ...just tell her."

"How?" He looked up at her, his face so forlorn that Quistis had to smile. "She doesn't remember it. What am I supposed to say?"

Quistis shook her head sadly, her golden hair shimmering. "I'm sorry, Irvine. I don't know."

Without thinking she bent over and kissed his forehead. "Good night."

Irvine watched as she quietly let herself out of his room. Half of him was inclined to go find Selphie - she had night duties - and just tell her while he still had the nerve (though most of the nerve was rum). The other half of him was inclined to go find Quistis and make her promise at gunpoint to forget everything he had just said. They battled it out for a while in his head before he made the executive decision to just go to bed.

He would think about it tomorrow morning.

He gathered the dishes and his eyes landed on the folder, still unopened, still resting on the table.

_Shit - the mission._

He decided to think about that tomorrow morning as well.

He poured himself a nightcap. He hadn't had anything to drink in a very long time; he had enjoyed the occasional beverage at school, but more for his image than anything. He didn't like the feeling the alcohol brought on - the strange swirly feeling where repressed memories suddenly had a relapse. 

But he wanted to sleep well tonight.


	8. Eight: fireworks

  
  


Chapter Eight

  
  
  
  


He had to read the first paragraph again.

_Oh, dear Hyne..._

His brain was stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the words his eyes were taking in. Irvine took a long sip of his fresh cup of coffee, begging the caffeine to rearrange the words on the page.

But the words weren't budging.

His eyes trailed down to the bullets beneath the initial heading, hoping that they could return to that first paragraph and find it a little more pleasing. No luck.

He couldn't believe it. 

This changed everything. This bloody changed everything.

He gulped the coffee, this time pleading, hoping that the next page would perhaps be different. But it wasn't. His eyes were drawn upwards, scanning through those dangerous words. Returning back to the first paragraph that so casually had rewritten Irvine's life.

There was an urgent knock at the door.

"C'mon in," he barked.

Selphie opened it, her face white, her version of the folder clasped in her hand. "Irvine...?"

He gestured her in, guiding her to a chair, his hand on the small of her back. 

"Have you read this?" she asked, her voice small and timid.

He nodded. "Just this morning." He poured her a cup of coffee, added some milk, and offered it to her; she took it gracefully with a wan smile.

"What's going on?" Her poor little face was frightened, and Irvine realized that she hadn't known about the subterfuge incident or any of the background.

He reached across the table, clasping her hand in one of his own. "Look," he said. "This all started with _my_ SeeD mission - the one I was training those students for? Well, I read the mission over and noticed something fishy. So I took it to Cid and Squall to look over." He gave her hand a squeeze. "I'm not sure how they got you involved. I'm sorry."

She looked at him, curious. "What happened with the report?"

"It was just - the mission wasn't _right._" He struggled to explain it. "It was poorly planned, too much dependence on insufficiently trained cadets and questionable information. It was the sort of mission that never should have qualified as a field exam - much too difficult."

She gasped. "They think somebody altered it?"

Irvine shrugged. "Based on this, I guess so." He gestured at the folder. "They suspect that someone inside the Garden system is trying to take us out while we're confused. Embarrass us. Kill off our cadets. Make us look incompetent."

He gave her a wry smile. "And we're the investigation."

The fear was gone from Selphie's face, replaced with the determination Irvine had become familiar with on their voyage. "Those jerks!" She set her cup down hard on the table. "They can't mess with our Garden!" She looked at Irvine, her eyes shining with anger. "Those were _my_ students they were targeting! _My_ students that they were going to send on that mission! They can't get away with this!"

Irvine laughed. "Calm down, Seff, we're not even there yet."

Taken aback, she blinked, and then smiled softly. "You know how personally I take these things."

Irvine, thinking back to the assault on the Missile Base, had to smile in return.

Selphie's eyes turned back to the folder; she was chewing her lip, something Irvine knew she only did when upset. "You alright, Seff?"

"I'm just upset," she said softly. "I mean, I didn't know about the subterfuge - that changes everything. I thought, honestly, that they were just pawning us off on some dangerous mission to get money for Garden."

She sighed, flipping through the pages. "Now that I know what it's about, I'm a little less bitter. But it's not any less dangerous."

Irvine squeezed the hand he suddenly realized he was still holding. "I know. It's one hell of a mission this time."

Selphie bit her lip again. "I just wasn't expecting an assignment," she admitted. "I thought being an Instructor meant you didn't go on assignment."

"I think they figured you'd like to take care of it, since it was targeted at your students," Irvine said softly. Mentally he was chastising himself: _This is your fault, Kinneas. You dragged her into this._

Selphie opened her folder to the first page and lightly grazed her fingers down the page. Clearing her throat, she softly and tentatively began to read:

  
  


_The team from Balamb Garden will be working in tandem with teams from Galbadia and Trabia. Though the focus is on the mission tentatively entitled _Desert Rose_, the main job of the Balamb team will be to monitor the behavior of both other teams, both of which are suspected terrorists and enemies of Garden. The _Desert Rose_ mission (details of which are found inside) has been set up by an independent council to invite an act of subterfuge. If at any point any members of the _Desert Rose_ operation are found to be engaging in acts of treason, it will be the responsibility of the Balamb team to act upon this to the best of their judgement._

  
  


At the bottom of the page Headmaster Cid had scrawled in his messy handwriting: "The whole mission is a cleverly constructed trap. You guys are both the jaws and the bait. Be careful!"

Selphie looked up at Irvine, determination and fear mixing in her face. "It all depends on us," she whispered. "We have to figure out who the traitors are before they act - and before they find us!"

Irvine shook his head. "I know, Seff. But they wouldn't have given it to us if they didn't think we could do it. I mean, come on - we're the SeeD who fought the sorceress."

Selphie smiled vaguely as she turned the page. "Did you read the actual mission?" she asked. "They've made us the hiring party. We're not even supposed to _be_ SeeD - we have to act like the representatives who _hired_ SeeD. We're taking up residence in Deling City at the end of the week."

Irvine knew all too well. He had read the case over carefully: _a pair of newlyweds in Deling City. The brother of one has gotten himself tangled in illegal weapons trading and is missing. Hired SeeD mercenaries for information and rescue mission._ He had read the specifics. _Living together in a small apartment. Rich but not too rich. May need to find jobs if mission extends indefinitely._

He and Selphie. Living together happily. Surrounded by SeeDs, some of which were suspects of crimes against Garden. Complicated. Much too dangerous.

There was no way he could tell her now. No way he could explain. The courage he had gathered last night with Quistis's help was useless.

Not with this much on the line.

He felt a light squeeze: her hand in his. "Irvine, what's wrong?"

He sighed. "I'm worried about this, Seff. I don't really want either of us to get hurt."

"We'll be there together," she said, trying to cheer him up. "We can take care of each other. We have to live together," she said, a little hesitantly. "Um..."

"I know," Irvine said. "It'll be okay. I trust you."

She laughed. "Yes, you do," she said. "And I trust you. I'm glad you'll be with me - I can't imagine doing this myself..." She shuddered. 

Her face was so forlorn; a sudden thought struck Irvine. "Hey, Seff, let's put this away. We'll think about it later. There are more important things we need to take care of."

She looked up at him as he reached over and gently closed the folder. "Like what?"

"Well," he said gently, "our picnic celebration just became a goodbye party. Let's take care of that first. Mission second."

She looked at him, amazed, and laughed in spite of herself. "Mission second?" she asked, gently teasing. "Special Instructor Kinneas, I believe that's called improper attitude."

"You sound like Quistis," he said, standing up and stretching. "Where's my Selphie?"

She grinned and stood up from the table, tackling him, her arms going around his waist and her face burying itself in his shirt. "Jerk," she said affectionately.

Irvine hugged her back, not quite knowing how to take this unexpected development.

She sighed into the warm smell of his black shirt. "Thank goodness you're coming with me, Irvine," she said.

He looked down at her, gently teasing: "Unable to handle the mission yourself, Instructor Tilmitt?"

"Now who sounds like Quistis?" she murmured, looking up at him with a silly smile.

Irvine realized that if he was able to start every day like this - Selphie Tilmitt in his arms, looking up at him with that smile - the mission wouldn't be all that bad.

Then the back of his mind presented him with reality again. 

Selphie could die.

He squeezed her and then released her, turning to gather his coffee and papers. "C'mon, Instructor, don't we have classes to teach?"

"They've all been canceled," she said oddly. "Last page of the report. They're sending someone else to take care of the sniper mission your students were training for. Zell's picking up my class."

"Poor kid's gonna have to do double duty," Irvine said.

Selphie smiled. "You didn't read that far? Cid stuck on a note. He wants to give us a two-day break before we have to leave."

Irvine shrugged. "Must've missed it," he said. "So what shall we do today?"

"I really want to have that party," Selphie said. "Let's make sure that everything's gonna work out. Especially if we're - leaving."

"Alright." Irvine grabbed his mug and hers and put them in the sink. "We'll go down and reserve the van - for real this time. Then we'll check in with the cafeteria people and make sure everything's ok."

Selphie was finally starting to cheer up - returning to her normal self, banning the fear and the anger. "Alright! And then we should check with everyone and see if they want to go tonight or tomorrow." She put a brave smile on. "So we have to go. We can enjoy things here until we go, right?"

Again, Irvine found himself admiring her resilience. "Of course, Seff. Now, c'mon, let's go ask Squall. I'll back you."

They went immediately to the third-floor office - Irvine wearing his suede pants and a black shirt, Selphie in jeans and a golden tank-tee - and were taken quite aback to see both Squall and Headmaster Cid.

"Uh, Squall," Irvine said after a hasty salute. "Can we talk to you for a second?"

Squall, obviously amused by their lack of uniform, stood up and smiled. "What can I do for you two?"

"Well," Selphie began, "you know we were planning on having an initiation party for the Instructors, right? Well, we, um, want to have it before Irvine and I have to ...leave." Her voice was hushed to keep from bothering Cid. "When are you and Rinoa free?" she whispered.

Squall smiled. "We could do it today," he said. "Tonight. Picnic for dinner and an evening on the beach. It'll be great."

Selphie squealed and then clapped her hands over her mouth. "Thanks," she whispered. "Let Rinoa know."

"She's here today on business," Squall said.

Irvine raised an eyebrow. "Business?"

Squall put a finger over his lips. "She's arguing for admission again," he said under his breath.

Selphie rolled her eyes. "They still won't let her?" she whispered loudly.

Squall sighed. "She's a sorceress," he muttered.

Cid threw them a curious look and Selphie and Irvine scattered, with a wave to Squall.

They headed down to the second floor, where they hung around impatiently in the hall until the morning classes were over.

They commandeered Zell as he came out of Selphie's old classroom, his shoulders drooped with mock exhaustion. "Good gracious, Selphie," he said, "you didn't tell me they were such terrors!"

Selphie giggled. "They're not terrors for me," she said sweetly. 

Zell glared at her playfully. "You guys had better get done soon," he said. "I'm beat!"

"Hey, Zell," Irvine began, "we were thinking of getting everybody together tonight and having a little congratulations-slash-going-away party. You up?"

"YEAH!" Exhaustion forgotten, Zell punched the air playfully. "I've been waiting for that!" He boxed around them. "I'll call Ma right away and have her make us something delicious!"

Exhilarated, he bounced off down the hall.

"Excellent," Irvine said under his breath, and Selphie snickered.

"Hey," said a voice behind them, "aren't you guys supposed to be doing something important?"

"Look, Quistis," Irvine drawled, "we have a couple days off, you know."

She stood there, immaculate as usual in her SeeD uniform, primly carrying a stack of books and giving her two friends a genuine smile. "What did you do to Zell? He looks ...excited."

"We're having the party!" Selphie squealed, and then grabbed Quistis's arm. "Tonight. You _have_ to come."

Quistis hastily rearranged her stack of papers before they spilled all over the floor. "Tonight? But I have to read all these essays..."

"Oh, come on, Q," Selphie insisted. "We're _leaving_ and we have to have the party before we go! You can't miss it!"

"Besides," Irvine added, "you'll miss one of Ma Dincht's desserts."

The smile spread across Quistis's face. "Well, in that case," she said. "I'll be glad to attend."

"Woo-hoo!" Selphie jumped up and down. "We'll come get you at 4, then! Right after classes end!"

Quistis winced. "Then I should get back to work," she said apologetically, and headed for her office down the hall.

Selphie grinned and grabbed Irvine's hand. "Come on, let's go down to the caf and see what we can get for tonight!"

Irvine followed her in a whirl of excitement. Together they dashed through Garden as fast as they could run, skidding to a stop in the cafeteria where they implored the lunch ladies to make up a fancy picnic for "Commander Squall's banquet," as Selphie wickedly referred to it. The cafeteria workers were thrilled with the request and promised to make something delicious - and including hot dogs - to be ready at four-o'clock. 

From there they nabbed the SeeD errand car and sped down to Balamb, where they regaled Ma Dincht with their plans before running to the general store and purchasing some fireworks - Irvine's idea, met with drastic squealing approval from Selphie. Irvine bought them both sandwiches in Balamb, which they devoured. Upon their return to Garden they put the van on reserve for the evening - the only automobile large enough to fit all six of them. 

And by then the afternoon was almost through - and they were both exhausted.

"I'm going to go jump in the shower," Selphie said.

"Gross," Irvine said, "you haven't showered yet?"

She stuck out her tongue. "Yes I did," she said, and then laughed. "Frankly, I'm exhausted. I need a little pep-up."

"You need no pepping," Irvine said, feigning exhaustion. "You've worn me out."

She poked him. "You'd better not be tired now, Irvy! We are going to PAH-TAY!"

Irvine tried to keep a straight face, but couldn't quite manage. "Alright, I'll go take a nap or a shower or something."

They parted ways at the entrance to the dormitory. Selphie ran up to her room, her light footsteps echoing down the hall. She burst into her room like a whirlwind and then collapsed on her bed.

_I'm so excited!_ She smiled at the ceiling. _We're finally going to get to hang out, all of us. It'll be so awesome! Everyone's changed so much since the battling stopped and we haven't gotten a chance to hang out together. _

Then she winced. _But it's scary, too. I have to leave in two days for that mission. I hope everything goes well - I can't be nervous. I shouldn't be nervous about a silly mission. It doesn't even involve any combat!_

She started to pull off her socks. _I'm really glad that it's Irvine and I going. He was such a big help today._ A strange thought crossed her mind as she balled her socks up and tossed them into her hamper. _In fact, he's been a wonderful friend for the past week._ She paused in thought. _And I haven't seen him look at another girl - besides Quisty and Rinoa - in a long time. He's just been helping me - spending time with me - being there for me..._

Then she shook her head, giggling to herself. _Why does that matter? He's my friend. And we have a mission to do._

The thought of staying in such close quarters with Irvine was exciting in both good and bad ways. It would be really fun to be able to hang out. But 'engaged'? 'Newly-weds'? 

_I can't really do anything ...it'd be too awkward. I treasure him too much. Can't mess things up._

With a determined grunt, Selphie lifted herself from the bed and plunged into the shower.

  
  


Irvine, on the other hand, remained sprawled across his own bed, similar thoughts consuming his mind. 

_I can't tell her anything. I can't let on now. It will complicate things - jeopardize the mission. Stupid mission._ The thought was childish and made him chuckle to himself. _Stupid dumb mission. I sound like a five-year-old again._

He stretched. Selphie's boundless energy was impressive and difficult to take for someone who had always been laid-back and relaxed. He admired her stamina - there was nothing delicate about her at all. Rinoa was the delicate one, the 'princess'. Quistis was tough as nails. But Selphie? She was balanced in-between. Lively. She had spunk. 

Spunk that had made Irvine Kinneas very tired.

_If I'm this worn out now - what's it going to be like when we're living together?_

The thought pleased him in a very odd way. _If I didn't know better I'd call this mission contrived - a plot by Quisty, perhaps, to get us together._

But it wasn't, he was sure. There was a dangerous feeling in his gut that he could only call instinct. It wouldn't be all fun and games. His intuition didn't kick in very often, but when it did - it usually called the shots.

He stretched again, lazily, and then headed for the shower.

  
  
  
  


They all gathered in the front lobby of Balamb Garden a little after four; Zell was late, coming from the library with a tell-tale flush on his face. Selphie ushered everyone into the van, the food already hastily loaded. Irvine took the wheel; Selphie leapt at shot-gun. Zell and Quistis sat in the middle while Squall and Rinoa - of course - cuddled in the back.

They stopped in Balamb (as required by Zell) to see Ma Dincht, who passed them a covered tray with a wink. Irvine then sped off to the beach.

It was a beautiful day. Zell quickly started a game of volleyball - first just batting it around with Irvine, then Quistis joined, and soon they formed teams - Zell, Irvine, and Quistis against Squall, Rinoa, and Selphie. It wasn't a very fair game: Rinoa wasn't very good at volleyball, though she was quite amusing (and amused) by her mishaps; and Selphie was too busy throwing sand at Irvine. The uneven teams made for a short, uneventful game. But at least Rinoa was laughing at herself; Quistis got upset every time she missed the ball and proceeded to sulk until Zell tackled her and put sand in her shirt. Then she got really upset and threw Zell in the water. Everyone else collapsed in laughter; Selphie was in tears and her stomach hurt.

Zell squelched his way out of the ocean, fury written across his face. Even Quistis started to giggle - which was a mistake. Zell leapt at her; Quistis took off nimbly, the dripping martial-arts expert on her heels. They tore through the beach, Quistis laughing a panicked laugh, Zell growling.

Irvine and Selphie looked at each other and nodded; as the sprinting duo passed nearby they leapt up. Selphie tackled Quistis; Irvine threw himself at Zell. Surprise was on their side, and they managed to drag the protecting two over to the ocean's edge. But then Quistis, fighting fiercely, managed to topple both herself and Selphie into the cool water; Zell, seeing this bright idea, threw his strong arms around Irvine's waist and let himself fall, pulling the cowboy under.

The four of them surfaced, dripping wet with the brisk water, everyone laughing. Irvine playfully dunked Selphie; Quistis then dunked him in return.

Then - almost in unison - they decided Squall and Rinoa should join in the fun.

Six soaking wet bodies crawled out of the ocean much later. The air was cooling off quickly, so Rinoa and Zell headed out to get a fire started while Squall and Irvine hauled the food out of the van. Selphie and Quistis set themselves to spreading out the tarps Irvine had "borrowed" from the supply closet. They set up the baskets of food in the middle.

The cafeteria workers had overdone themselves - mounds of food were available for the picnic-cookout, including a stack of hot dogs that almost made Zell cry with glee. Cold-cut sandwiches, pasta salad, vegetables and dip. An entire cooler of sodas. All the necessary ingredients to make s'mores. And Zell's Ma had made the most amazing plate of cookies a SeeD could ever ask for.

Needless to say, they stuffed their faces.

Zell finally kicked back, the last one to stop eating. Quistis was lying on her back, looking up at the sky, which was painted with the sunset. Rinoa was trying to stuff Squall's mouth full of cookies; Squall was trying not to laugh at her. 

Irvine glanced at Selphie; she was shrugging on her little denim coat against the chill. Breaking the silence, he said softly, "Thanks for coming out, guys."

Squall took the opportunity to tackle Rinoa and put her in a headlock. "Thanks for putting it together, you guys," he said, as Rinoa struggled.

Selphie grinned. "Well, it's the last time we'll be together for a while, so..."

"Where are you -mmmph - going?" Rinoa poked her head out long enough to spit out the sentence.

"Selphie and I have been assigned to a mission," Irvine said. "We're off to Deling City day after tomorrow. So this is a party both for congrats and for our going-away."

"We threw ourselves a going-away party!" Selphie exclaimed, suddenly amused. "Whoops!"

Quistis sighed. "And Zell and I get to pick up your slack while you're off in Deling, having a blast."

Zell tossed half of a cookie at her. "You didn't have to deal with Selphie's brats today!"

"They're not brats," Selphie retorted. "You just can't handle them like I can!"

Quistis rolled her eyes. "Fee, you're ridiculous."

"Hey," Irvine said, dramatically commanding the audience, "this _is_ our last goodbye. We've spent so much time together, and all Selphie and I wanted to do before we left was relax with all of our closest friends."

Zell snickered. "You're so corny."

"You all mean so much to us," Irvine said over the hush, gesturing with melodramatic emphasis. "We'll miss you worse than anything."

"Full of crap," Quistis said to the night air.

"And so, in tribute to all of the memories we've shared..."

All eyes turned to him at the end of his 'dramatic' speech, expecting him to be serious.

"We got fireworks," he said simply, and whipped them out from under the blanket.

"Ooooh!" Rinoa squealed. "I love fireworks!"

"Just like ..." Quistis whispered.

"Hey!" Zell yelled. "It's like that memory - the first one we all had together. Fireworks on the beach!"

Selphie grinned at him. "That's the point, doofus!"

Zell stuck his hands on his hips in a childish imitation. "I'm gonna tell on yooo!" he whined.

Selphie clapped her hands to her mouth, giggling. "You sound exactly like you did when you were a little kid!" she said, and Zell laughed.

"So do you, giggle-face," he said, and wagged his tongue at her.

Selphie clapped her hands. "Fireworks for the orphanage gang!"

A soft sigh reached Irvine's ears over the din - Rinoa.

He turned to her and said softly: "We wanted to include you in this memory, Rinoa."

She smiled at him, her eyes filling with tears. "Thanks," she said softly. Squall reached out and took her hand subtly; he threw Irvine an appreciative glance. 

"You all wait here," Irvine said, and stood up with the box in hand. "I'm going to set them off from that spot over there."

He had been eyeing the place since they had arrived that afternoon; there was a little ledge, perfect for launching the fireworks, and a stone against which to prop them. He knelt down, arranging the launching device they had picked up, and then struggled to wrestle the box open. 

Soft footsteps behind him made him turn. "I thought you'd want help," Selphie said as she knelt down across from him, grabbing the lid and pulling. "Besides," she said casually, "you shouldn't have to be alone."

Irvine couldn't have been happier.

Between the two of them they got the top off, revealing the colorless paper-wrapped stalks. Irvine smiled at Selphie over the box: "You pick."

She grinned and chose one, delicately handing it to him. Irvine pulled a lighter from his pocket; he propped the firework inside the launcher and lit the end. Laughing, he ran from it, pulling Selphie to duck behind a nearby tree stump.

_Boom!_ The firework shot out from the holder and burst across the ocean in a flare of golden sparkles. A light chorus of appreciation drifted over the sand, followed by Zell's clearly audible "Oh, YEAH!"

Selphie and Irvine looked at each other, grinned, and dove for the box.

They set them off in packs of twos and threes - brilliant, twinkling radiance in rainbow colors, lighting over the ocean like stars. Ones that twirled, ones that whistled, some that just exploded. Fire-red, sky-blue, green and violet, silver and rose-gold, twisting together in that last illumination. It was the most beautiful thing they could have done that evening. Every time a particularly bright one went off, Selphie cooed in awe and squeezed Irvine's hand.

The nearness of her - the absolute darkness - the brilliance and beauty - it was driving the cowboy mad.

Only about a dozen remained. "Hold on," Irvine called out over the sand. He grabbed them by the handful and went out on the ledge, arranging them in tandem, leaning them against rocks and sticks when he ran out of holders, precariously lacing their wicks together.

"What are you doing?" Quistis called.

"You'll see," he said with a smirk.

Finally they were arranged as he wanted; he set the first one off and hurried back to duck behind the stump with Selphie.

"What did you do?" she whispered up at him.

"Just watch." He gently turned her to the ocean, his hands lingering on her shoulders.

The first firework flew into the air; the second one hissed in response. As the light from the first one died, the second one followed out over the ocean, sparking the wick for the third one. They went off like a chain reaction - an endless furious onslaught of light and color, reflecting off of the ocean, mixing into pools of glorious iridescence.

Selphie sighed and leaned backwards, resting her head on Irvine's shoulder; impulsively his arms went around her, holding her tight. A burst of green, a splash of silver. He rested his cheek against her hair, not wanting the night to end, not wanting to have to leave on this dangerous awkward mission. A fiery burst of red, screaming spirals as it died. He sighed.

"Vin?" Selphie whispered, hearing his sigh. She turned in his arms to gaze up at him. A burst of golden splendor lit her face, her eyes full of concern.

He wanted to say, _you're missing the fireworks,_ but something in her face stopped him - the words caught in his throat - 

Then something lit up in her eyes, and to Irvine's surprise - she leaned forward and kissed him.

Her lips touched his softly, a sweet, gentle caress; shocked, he kissed her back without thinking, eyes closing, his entire being forgetting about the glory of the fireworks for the simple wonder of Selphie in his arms...

Raucous cheering brought him back to reality.

A flush crept over his cheeks at the thought that they had been discovered, but it was only Zell and Rinoa and Quistis celebrating the finale of the fireworks. He looked down at Selphie, wide eyed, concerned and scared and exhilarated all at once. Irvine didn't have _any_ idea what to do next.

And then Zell dove over the ridge, tackling Irvine into the ground. "Duuuuude!" he exclaimed, clapping the cowboy on the shoulder. "That was so AWESOME!"

Quistis appeared behind him, clapping. "Excellent."

And Rinoa ran up behind her, throwing her arms around Selphie and then Irvine, gushing, "It was so beautiful!"

Even Squall praised them: "Not bad, Kinneas."

"Fireworks," Rinoa sighed, "we should do this more often."

_Fireworks? You have no idea._

Through the commotion his eyes landed on Selphie's; hers were full of a secret smile and a multitude of questions. But no other opportunity presented itself. They gathered their things, packed up the van, and drove back to Garden. Selphie called a cheerful goodbye as she headed to her dorm room, arm in arm with Quistis. Squall surreptitiously escaped off to his own dorm room with Rinoa. Zell walked with Irvine, chatting until he found his own door and vanished. 

Irvine shut the door behind him, not bothering with the light. He sank into his bed with a groan, knowing he wouldn't sleep.


	9. Nine: deling city

  
  


_I'm sorry this has taken so long. Please read my note at the bottom for some 'important' news._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Chapter Nine

  
  


The next day passed in a fantastic blur; between packing, cleaning, paperwork, administration, arguments, goodbyes, red tape, and horrible amounts of general confusion there wasn't a second for Irvine to do anything remotely productive. 

Productive being the relative term, obviously.

He had packed up all of his things; the clothes he had which were less associated with the "Galbadian Cowboy" image were to come to Deling City; the rest were going into Garden storage. All of his belongings had been sorted in a similar fashion (save both Exeters, which he refused to leave behind). He had completed the Garden-mandated paperwork and transferred the mission funding into his personal bank account for easy access. Cid had finalized all of the remaining authorization. It had been an exhausting day.

He ran into Selphie in the hallway; they were both carrying similar stacks of paperwork with similar exasperated looks on their faces. 

"Irvine!" she called, and then said curiously as he approached: "But I guess I have to stop calling you that."

He shrugged. "We do have pretty unique names. I hadn't thought of that." He struck a pose. "So what do I look like?"

"Silly." She slugged him, laughing. "Well, we can't call you Irvine, we can't call you Irvy..." She thought for a second and then said triumphantly, "I've got it!"

Irvine looked at her quizzically. "I already call you Vinny, and Vin," she explained, "so we'll just say your name is Vincent!"

Irvine laughed. "Vincent, eh? A little too serious for me ...but what about you?"

He looked her over, his eyes scrutinizing. "Selphie's out. Can't call you Sefie. Or Seff. You don't have any good..."

"Hey, Fee!"

Quistis was coming down the hall. Irvine and Selphie exchanged glances and grinned.

"Fee. Fiona it is," Irvine said.

"Fiona?" Selphie made a face. "_Fiona?_"

"_Vincent?_" Irvine said, laughing.

Quistis approached, looking back and forth between the two of them. "What's so funny?"

"We have horrible names," Irvine said casually, and then left with a tip of his hat.

"What's so bad about his name?" Quistis asked, confused. Selphie stifled a giggle as she turned to walk in step with her roommate.

The rest of the day continued as usual. Irvine got his physical condition papers signed by Doctor Kadowaki - "Physical condition papers shouldn't be necessary," the doctor groaned - and then grabbed lunch on his way back up to headmaster Cid for what seemed to be the six-hundredth time that day. Then back to the dorm to finish packing his stuff. Then down to reserve the transport and sign the papers for his storage space.

If he'd known mission-prep was this much of a pain, he would've thought twice before taking that certification.

Quick dinner with Zell - "Hey, hot dogs are quick!" - and then off to check on his storage boxes and finish gathering all his belongings. Two suitcases full of everything precious to him - and that was pushing it. Irvine wasn't much for belongings, physical possessions; he put all of his meaning in intangible things. Always had.

Night finally came and he lost himself for a few precious hours - the last night in his own bed.

Bright and early came the knock on his door. Irvine debated tossing a boot at it and going back to bed; but then Quistis let herself in.

"I don't know why I had to be the wake-up committee, but Xu talked me into it," she grumbled pleasantly. "So wake up."

"I'm awake." Irvine rolled over.

She tutted at him from the door. "I have to go make sure Selphie is moving," she said; "She had the same response you did. I'll be back and you'd better be dressed or else."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" Irvine asked sleepily.

Quistis narrowed her eyes and shut the door.

He dragged himself out of bed, showered, dressed, and packed the remains of his things in the top of the nearer suitcase. The knock came again, and he grunted; Quistis and Selphie appeared, both dragging heavy suitcases with them.

"Well, who is going to help me carry these?" Irvine asked sarcastically when he saw the girls both had their hands full."

"I was hoping you'd be a gentleman and carry mine," Selphie quipped, groaning as she yanked at hers with both hands, almost toppling over onto her rear.

"Don't worry," Quistis said. "I know Zell's coming to see you off. We'll make him do it."

"No you won't." Zell appeared around the corner, grinning like a maniac. "I heard that."

"I'll buy you a hot dog," Quistis teased.

Zell deliberate. "Okay, fine," he said finally, and grabbed Irvine's largest suitcase.

"Why are they more awake than we are?" Irvine said under his breath.

"Quistis likes coffee," Selphie whispered. "And Zell is always like that."

Together they made their way down to the garage and loaded the suitcases in the car. Selphie embraced Quistis, squealing something unintelligible, and Zell awkwardly shook Irvine's hand. Then Selphie detached herself and attacked Zell with a monster hug.

Quistis approached Irvine. "Look," she said softly. "You be careful. With both of you." Her eyes looked directly into Irvine's. "And I don't just mean with the mission."

Irvine nodded. "I won't let a thing happen to her," he promised.

"Or you." Quistis, surprisingly, gave him a quick hug. "You still owe me stories, cowboy."

He and Selphie got in the car; Seff waved out the window as he gunned it toward Balamb.

"I'm nervous, Vinny," Selphie whined as they pulled into the rental station and parked. Irvine grabbed one of the hand-carts and loaded their luggage onto it; they each had two suitcases, surprisingly, though Selphie's were bigger. 

"About what?"

She looked at him. "About the mission, dummy," she said, slugging him on the arm.

"What mission?"

Her eyes widened. "Are you retarded?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "I thought we were running away together to live in Deling City," he said, and then emphasized: "My darling Fiona."

She gasped, and then slugged him harder, giggling. "You're _teasing_ me, Vin," she said. "Stop it!"

"C'mon," he said. "Train time. You love the train."

"Yeah, but we can't take the SeeD car," she moped as he loaded their suitcases under the first car where their tickets were.

Irvine winked at her. "We could sneak in - at least until we pass Timber," he said.

"Goody!" Selphie clapped her hands. "SeeD car, SeeD car," she warbled as she helped Irvine with the last suitcase.

He guided her onto the train, the small of his hand resting comfortably on her back - _when did we start acting like this?_ - and then swiped his ID to open the private SeeD compartment. Selphie danced around, checking on all the usual amenities, and then perching herself next to the window, gazing at the land and sea as they passed through.

Irvine sat on the couch, smirking. But her silhouette against the rushing backdrop reminded him of something. She was wearing the same dress - her cute little yellow jumper, hugging every curve, allowing her to move with freedom both in and out of battle. So enchanting.

_She was standing by that same window, looking out, singing some silly song. Her eyes were entranced - she was so beautiful, and I had realized that she was the same Selphie I remembered. I was so excited - these were my friends from long ago. I didn't know why they didn't recognize me; but we'd all changed. And I wanted to tell her first! I thought she'd remember..._

_"Selphie, it's fate! We're destined to be together!"_

_Throwing myself at her with open arms. Welcoming her back._

_But she looked up at me, thinking I was teasing, flirting. Trying to hit on her. Being my charming self. She didn't understand._

_"Yeah, right," she stammered, and turned back to the window. Turned away. She had no idea who I was or what I was talking about; she didn't know just how serious I was..._

_She broke my heart in that instant ._

_And then, before I could explain anything about the orphanage, about our past, find out what really happened - Squall came in to 'check' on her, and I lost all of my courage..._

He looked back at her, framed in shimmering sunlight against the windowpane. Giggling as she softly ran her fingers along the glass, eyes fixated on the world outside.

_We're meant to be together._

Fate. Could someone like Irvine believe in fate? He had to, now. The sorceress - time compression - destiny had a completely new meaning. But ...

She looked back at him, giving him a dazzling smile. His heart stopped. 

Now that she finally remembered ...if he were to go back up to her, say those words ...what would she say in response? Would she just laugh at him again? Think he was teasing?

It wasn't worth the risk.

They stayed in the SeeD compartment all morning; Selphie played around while Irvine took a quick nap on those comfortable couches. Then they gathered their things and stole discreetly into the first car after the speaker-phone announced the train was approaching the Galbadia garden stop. 

They squeezed into a small seat and watched as a handful of people in SeeD uniforms got on the train. 

"Glad we left," Irvine whispered.

"Wonder if any of those people are the suspects?" Selphie whispered back.

Irvine looked them over, pondering the thought. A tall, black-haired man, looking arrogant. A woman with pale blond hair cut shorter than Fujin's, looking around the train with narrowed eyes. A stunning red-head, waves pouring over her shoulders, grinning at the man behind her, a tall lanky guy with sandy hair. They all headed for the SeeD compartment; the familiar door shut behind them.

"You can't really tell," Irvine said. "But wouldn't that be odd?"

"Hope they don't recognize us." Selphie burrowed her face into Irvine's shoulder. "I'm not here," she sang softly.

Irvine poked her. "Cause that'll help," he said. She grunted.

Eventually Selphie fell asleep as well, her head bobbing with the train until it came to a safe rest on Irvine's shoulder. Smiling, he put his arm around her, allowing her to curl up and use him for a pillow. Irvine himself stared out the window until he dozed off as well.

A kind voice woke them. "Excuse me, but your tickets say Deling City."

Irvine looked up groggily. Selphie had slid until her head was resting in his lap; his arm drooped over her shoulder. The stewardess was looking down at them, a faint smile on her face. "We'll be pulling into Deling in about two minutes. I thought I'd wake you up."

"Thank you," Irvine said sleepily with a smile. He gently shook Selphie.

They stood, gathered their luggage together (two suitcases was good packing until you had to carry it, Irvine thought nastily) and got off the train. Selphie squinted into the sun; "I wonder where we're supposed to..."

"Ah, so you made it."

The woman was dressed in some sort of uniform and wearing an odd cap; but the voice was familiar. "I'm your landlord," she said briskly. "Let me take you to where you'll be staying."

Something in her manner reminded Irvine of Quistis ...no, older, a little more strict. A voice Irvine knew he had heard around Balamb Garden. Not Quistis ...it was Xu!

"The PT is this way," she gestured, and they got on some sort of red trolley.

"PT?" Selphie couldn't help but ask.

"Public Transport," she replied, "or the _trans_ as we refer to them. We've set up a place for you over past the shopping district." She pulled the cord for the stop and got off, helping them with a suitcase.

"The place is lovely," she said conversationally as they rode up the elevator. Irvine was still confused; _why is Xu out here acting like an annoying landlady?_ She led them down the hall and into a room marked _203_. 

_Click._

"Okay, let's talk real," Xu said, taking off the hat and giving her silky black hair a toss. "Glad you made it on time." Her tone was business-like, stern, as she turned and strode across the apartment, her heels clicking authoritatively.

"Xu!" Selphie had figured it out, but was no less confused. "What are you doing here?"

"Administering your mission directives," she said. "I'm command for this one; I'm in Deling on other business, so they just added you to my list." She sighed; Irvine wondered what _other business_ was. Keeping an eye on them?

"This apartment will be your base of operations. Don't spend too much time away from it; try to have most of your meetings here. This room..." she gestured to the open living room in which they stood. "This room is full of hidden cameras and mikes," she said, "all recording to your personal computer."

"Computer?" Selphie's ears perked.

"Yes." Xu smiled slightly and headed into another room, heels echoing. "Over here is your PC. It's a pretty advanced machine. All of the audio and video from this apartment feed directly into the computer. This is also the best way for you to get in touch with any of us from the outside. Agent Tilmitt, the computer is your domain, obviously."

Selphie started. "Yes, ma'am," she said, obviously surprised.

Xu paused to smile again. "We've been watching your talents," she said, "and we're not going to let a talented programmer and hacker go to waste."

"Programmer?" Irvine suddenly remembered Selphie's online journal and web page - it had been relatively straightforward, but Irvine had never considered that Selphie had made the whole thing from scratch.

"We suggest that you think of a plausible reason for Agent Tilmitt to be spending a lot of time at this computer," Xu said. "Perhaps a correspondence course. It will be fairly obvious; this apartment requires a lot of control."

Irvine glanced around him. "What's in here?"

Xu pointed rapidly. "Hidden weapons cache there - and there - and over there is a place for you two to keep your own personal weapons. In the corner of the bedroom is a carefully Hidden Curaga Draw Point in case of emergencies. And there are a few other - surprises that we hope you'll never have the misfortune of having to discover."

She paused as if remembering something. "Oh, and here," she said. "Hold out your left hand."

Puzzled, Irvine did as she asked. Xu felt around Irvine's inner wrist until she picked up a pulse; she then pulled a small, white disc out of nowhere and pressed it firmly into the soft flesh. It tingled, leaving a slightly cold sensation as it dissolved into his skin.

"What the heck?"

Xu gestured to Selphie, who obediently extended her arm. "Tracing devices," she said as she administered the small disc to Selphie as well. "These will track your position and vital signs for up to six months. It's for emergencies only - but we'd like to be prepared. Your terminal PC will track as well." She looked at Selphie. "I suggest you teach Agent Kinneas how to do that."

Selphie gulped audibly.

Xu gave the apartment an authoritative glance and then tucked her hair back into her hat. "You will find my com number on the computer, as well as the directives for your first meeting with the SeeD agents. Are there any questions?"

Being briefed by Xu was so familiar for Selphie that she automatically shook her head and saluted. It was comical, her being in the bright yellow sundress, hair wrinkled from her impromptu nap. 

Xu gave them a fresh smile unlike any they had seen yet. "Unpack. Relax. Enjoy your first night." She left as briskly as she had entered.

Irvine remained, staring at the door, a strange sense of unease overpowering him. _Xu is already in Deling. What could be so important?_

A squeal from behind him brought him back to earth.

He turned, went down the small hall, following the sound of giggles. Selphie - never one to be overcome with somber thoughts - was bouncing gleefully on the bed. The bedroom was enormous and cheerful, a burnt gold coverlet with hunter green flowers underneath the girl's boots.

"Look!" she squealed. "The bed is _huge!_"

And Irvine suddenly realized he would have to sleep with Selphie.

He dragged their suitcases into the bedroom while Selphie continued to bounce and squeal in excitement. "And look at the bathroom," she continued as if he had never left. "It's amazing - the shower doors are tinted glass. We look like we're snobs!"

Irvine couldn't help but laugh. True, the apartment was certainly larger than any SeeD dorm room. 

"Get off that bed and unload your things," he insisted; Selphie gave one last bounce and kicked her feet into the air, landing on her rear.

She danced over to her suitcase_s_. "Which drawers do you want?" she asked.

"Doesn't matter," Irvine replied.

"I'll take these then," she said, gesturing to the set beside her suitcase. Humming some foreign melody she unzipped the bag and began to unpack, cheerful clothes stacking into the tall bureau.

Irvine unpacked without the humming. His clothes were basic, casual, comfortable - he'd left the trendy cowboy gear behind, knowing it was much too recognizable. He stacked up, listening to the soft sound of Selphie singing.

Why had he thought this would be uncomfortable? Selphie obviously wasn't put out in the slightest. She was over there, serenading her fresh clothes, tucking them away gently into their drawers as if this were a fun adventure. Not even a hint of awkwardness. She was genuinely enjoying herself.

It was as if she had never - but she did. His entire face flushed as he remembered her lips - so soft - he turned his head back to the stack of clothing before him.

They finished unpacking and then wandered around Deling City, reminiscing about their many visits during the Sorceress chase. They stopped to have dinner in a charming little pasta place across the street from their apartment building. Selphie chatted nonstop during the meal - regaling Irvine with stories from her elder years in Trabia - and it was dark out when they returned to the hotel.

"I'm kind of tired," Selphie admitted as they headed up the elevator. "You sleepy?"

Irvine yawned in response. "It's been a hectic day," he said gently, "and we should probably just turn in."

They got back to the apartment and Irvine awkwardly realized what his words meant. Sharing a bed. It wasn't a big deal, right? They had slept side-by-side, all of them, throughout their travels. It didn't mean anything - did it?

"You take the bathroom first," Selphie said, rummaging in her drawers. "I've lost my pajamas!"

Wordlessly Irvine headed into the bathroom, washed his face, brushed his teeth. Stared into the mirror. How weird was this? It was going to be the end of things - the end of the casualness with which they treated their relationship...

He retreated from the bathroom to sit awkwardly on the edge of the bed. How would they even ...? One bed. _I could sleep on the couch if she wanted me to._

Selphie was singing behind the door. She didn't seem to be thinking the deep, heavy thoughts Irvine was. _Calm down, man. One step at a time. _

_We're meant to be together._

Where did that thought come from?

She opened the door with a grin, wearing a white t-shirt and minty-green pajama pants. Yawning, she stretched, and then her eyes landed on the bed.

_Now comes the weird part. Where we figure out how to sleep together like a couple that we're not. _

But it wasn't weird at all.

Selphie simply climbed into the bed, yawned, and curled up in a ball with a cheerful, "Goodnight, Irvine."

Shocked and bemused, Irvine stretched out on his back beside her. 

"Night, Seff."

_Wonders never cease._

  
  
  
  
  
  


_I had the most horrible engineering assignment from hell - that's what was holding up the story. I wanted to make it up by writing a long and involved chapter, but instead ...well, you got this cutesy, angst-y, couple-y stuff. Enjoy it while it lasts ^^ However, my life is taking a turn for the busier in the next couple days ..._

_I'm currently in the process of reworking and relocating my website; the process is expected to finalize at the end of this week, meaning I probably will be taking a minor hiatus from this story. Don't hate me - I'll make it up to you. And by "minor" of course I only mean a few days._

_What's the reward for you guys? Once I move the site, I'll have the space to keep all of my fanfiction listed on my domain - allowing you to get special previews before stuff gets set up at fantiction.net! Plus - if you've seen my site, you know that I think I'm an anime artist - I could be talked into doing story-related illustrations. Booyaka!_

_Hopefully that's enough of a bribe that you'll forgive me for the little break I have to take._

_I certainly won't lose interest in this story. Irvine has taken over my life!( ::wants to be Selphie:: )_

_Thanks for all the feedback. I really do treasure it in a totally non-cheesy way._


	10. Ten: protocol and rivalry

_the new site is successfully up! booyaka!! please check it out:  
  
  
i was having problems earlier today with fanfiction.net, so i just want to let you all know that the story is now available at my website as well.  
i post there while i'm working - but i always post here as soon as i'm finished!  
anyway - so like, read on._   
  
  
  


**Chapter Ten**

  
  
  
  


Irvine awoke to the delicious smell of coffee.

Coffee, along with the sweet scent of citrus bath gel.

The bed beneath him was soft and comfortable; not like his SeeD bed. So it was a dream.

He rolled over and grunted inadvertently. A soft giggle showered over him, bathing him like sunlight. He knew that giggle, and knew that it had never greeted him upon awakening like he hoped. He was dreaming.

"Get up, silly," the giggle said, turning into a soft voice. "I made you coffee, since I know you like it in the morning."

No, that was a dream too. The woman he adored, making him coffee in the morning ...?

He heard soft footsteps and then something shoved into his shoulder, _hard._ "Get up," she said sternly. "I've been up forever! I've showered, I've made coffee, and I've set up our accounts on the computer. I'm _bored!_"

He opened his sleepy eyes. "Good morning, Selphie." And blinked. She had just showered and smelled brightly of citrus and _clean_, a wonderful feeling. She was wearing baggy wide-legged khakis and a little navy-blue shirt with a collar. And her hair - instead of its usual shining, flippy style, it rested around her face in silky, tousled curls. 

Her face melted into the most beautiful smile. "Good morning, Irvine. Do you remember where the supermarket is?"

She had slipped into the game so easily, it unnerved him. They had just spent their first night together, alone. And here she was, chipper as always, wanting to make him breakfast ... 

What the hell was this torture?

Selphie, making him coffee in the mornings with a smile; himself, in _their_ bed, in _their_ apartment. She was fulfilling his every dream - this life was absolutely perfect ...

Except that it was a facade. A mission.

She would never understand how this life - this simple life - was all that he wanted. It was driving him crazy to finally experience his only dream and to know - every second - that it wasn't really happening.

Despair. Irvine was in hell. An utterly perfect hell.

And it was only morning.

She gently shoved him again. "Vin, come on. There's a mission at hand here, and the mission involves eating breakfast. We have coffee and ...a handful of granola bars. I'm starving!"

Irvine stretched and couldn't help but smile. "Alright. You'll have to let me shower, but then we can go looking for groceries."

"It's about time." Selphie moved from the bed to let Irvine stretch again and make his way out. She headed into the small study and seated herself at the computer. "After you shower, you should come see this," she said. "It's awesome!"

Irvine gathered his things - baggy jeans, dark red shirt - and headed for the shower. The warm water was relaxing and he found himself cheering up. _Just take it one step at a time, cowboy. Nothing to despair about. Just enjoy as much as the mission as you can and be serious about the parts you can't._ His morning funk was disappearing. _She's having fun - why can't you?_

He dried himself, dressed quickly, and ran a comb through his long hair; it cascaded down past his shoulder blades and proceeded to soak through his red t-shirt. Laughing, he gathered his things and went to put them away in the hamper.

"Good gracious," Selphie said as he emerged, "look at your hair!"

He turned to look at her, stray pieces flying around his face. "What do you mean?"

"Bloody Ifrit, Irvine, it's really long." She grinned. "I've never noticed before - you've always had it up. But _man,_ do you have a lot of hair!"

Irvine shook his head slowly, the long strands flying back and forth. "Chicks dig the hair," he said, teasing.

"They'd better not," Selphie said with a giggle. "We don't need any more trouble than we've already got."

He strolled into the study - Selphie was staring intently at the computer - and peered over her shoulder. "Porn again, huh?"

She smacked him. "Don't get any ideas," she warned. "I know everything that goes on here on this computer. If I catch you looking up pornography, you'll be in _so_ much trouble!"

"Yes, mother."

"Now look," she said, excited. "Here are all the video feeds in the house - there are a lot more than Xu mentioned!" She began hitting buttons, her fingers flying. The view on the screen flipped through the various rooms, views and angles rotating.

"Hey, that's my ass."

She giggled. "Then we'll have to save that shot."

Irvine poked her. "Don't you dare!"

"And look at this," she said, spontaneously closing the windows and opening another program. "Here's how we get in touch with Balamb."

A series of windows popped up around the screen and Irvine admitted that he was lost. "What the hell is all that, Seff?"

"Simple," she said primly in a perfect imitation of Quistis, "and don't call me Seff. These windows will allow us to check electronic messages left for us by Balamb Staff - Cid, Squall, and all those people. These allow us to put in requests for more funding or supplies." She tapped a finger on the screen to emphasize her directions. "These send our daily reports - oh, yeah, we have to give daily reports. I'll show you how to do that later."

"You're a bloody genius," Irvine said. "The only think I know how to do with a computer is - well, shoot it."

Selphie burst out laughing. "Come on, cowboy, I'm hungry!"

"I'm not a cowboy," Irvine sulked. "They said I wasn't allowed to wear the hat."

"You sound like a pouting five-year-old."

"I feel like one." He tugged his suede jacket on over his clothes. "I want my hat."

"You're ridiculous. The hat was a dead give-away - there was no way you could wear it." She grabbed his hand and tugged him out the door. "Make sure you lock it."

They headed down into Deling's shopping district and found the supermarket without much trouble; together, they filled a cart up with groceries, charging it to their new Garden-issue card. On the way back Irvine stopped in a little café and picked up two muffins, a hot chocolate for Seff, and a mocha for himself. They sipped the drinks at a little table outside the café, watching people walk by.

Irvine noticed Selphie glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. The third time she did it he caught her gaze gently and asked: "What is it?"

She blushed. "You look so different," she admitted. "I'm just getting used to it."

He reached over and tugged on one of her curls. "You changed your hair."

"I thought you hadn't noticed," she said, slightly pleased. "I thought we should look a little different - I'm just ...I don't know. You've got your hair down, you have no hat, you're wearing jeans - you look like someone I don't know."

"I'm still me," Irvine pointed out.

"Oh, shut up." Selphie tossed her muffin wrapper at him. "Maybe when you changed your clothes you could've changed your personality into someone who actually likes me."

"Oh, darlin', when have I ever been anything but a sweetheart?"

"All those times that you're a retard."

"You got me there."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Such an endearing couple we are," she said. "They'll see right through us."

"I bet most couples do this," Irvine mused. "Don't take Squall and Rinoa as an example, dear."

"Do you like my hair?" she asked suddenly.

"It's cute," he said simply, sipping his coffee.

They sat for a while longer before lugging their groceries back home and depositing them in the kitchen cupboards. At that point they were hungry again, so Selphie made pasta.

"What's the plan for today?" he asked her after lunch.

"Oooh, I'll check!" She jumped up and ran for the computer. 

"I think you like that machine more than you like me," Irvine called after her as he headed to the sink to do the dishes. 

"Shut up," she said endearingly. "Oooh, look, there's a message from Cid!"

Irvine dumped the dishes in the sink and came to look, standing behind her and peering at the screen over her shoulder. Selphie clicked on a little flashing light and a screen popped up - a simple text message.

_Balamb Team: Please contact me on webphone at your earliest convenience for today's directives._

"Webphone?"

"Sweet!"

The two exclamations meshed, and Selphie and Irvine looked at each other and laughed. 

"See, Vin, webphone is just a way of connecting to the other person on the computer. We can talk to Cid through the computer like it were a phone. Sometimes you can connect with video, so you can see the other person, but I doubt we have that - it's expensive." She clicked on a little icon with a phone and copied the number from the bottom of Cid's message. "I think this is Cid's personal line. Dude, that's so cool!"

Irvine shook his head. "I don't know about you, Seff."

"I'm just so excited to have a computer," she gushed. "Trabia depended so much on computers, they were everywhere -"

There was a burst of static, and then a voice: "Balamb Garden, Headmaster."

"Oh," Selphie said, surprised. "Selphie Tilmitt and Irvine Kinneas reporting for directives from Deling City, sir."

"Ah, hello." The voice was faintly recognizable as their familiar headmaster. "Glad to see you've got everything set up."

"The computer systems are fully operational, sir," Selphie said, a note of pride in her voice.

"Excellent." Static covered the tinny voice for a second and then faded. "Have you settled in yet?"

Selphie surveyed what she could see of the messy rooms. "Yes," she said, amused. "Very well."

"Is Kinneas there?"

Selphie elbowed Irvine. "Say something," she hissed. "He can hear you, too."

"Good afternoon, sir."

"Ah, hullo, Irvine," Cid replied, his electronic voice small and thin. "Good, then, I'll give you your directives."

"Bet this takes half an hour," Selphie whispered.

A cough resounded over the connection, sounding very odd. "This afternoon you will be meeting with the teams; two from Trabia and two from Galbadia."

"Four SeeD cadets?" Selphie asked, surprised.

"I know, Selphie, it seems like overkill. I think they are trying to emphasize the importance of the _Desert Rose_ mission."

"Three of us were enough to liberate Timber... " she whispered to Irvine.

"Look," The tinny voice said sternly. "The point of this mission is to try and trick the traitors into revealing themselves. Out of the six that have been sent it is suspected that at least one is the enemy we are looking for. If they believe the mission is vital to Garden, they'll be more likely to bungle it."

"But won't that reveal who they are?"

"They'll try to frame someone else," Cid said, "or frame you, or the _Desert Rose_ operatives. The trick is to catch them beforehand."

"Um," Irvine said awkwardly, "just how are we supposed to do that, sir?"

"Why do you think I picked you two for this mission?" Cid asked her, his tinny voice sounding like a child's over the connection. "Yes, the targets were your students, and you were bound to get emotional about them. But the two of you have prime knowledge about the inner operations of both Trabia and Galbadia Gardens - knowledge that will be essential to understanding the protocol on this mission. You're the only people _at_ Balamb with that knowledge - we obviously couldn't use SeeD from the other two Gardens on this mission in your place, they'd be recognized - and out of anyone here who would know Trabia or Galbadia, you two are the only ones we can trust. You were great Instructors, yes - but we need your pasts and skills more than your students."

He coughed, another odd sound over the long connection. "The best way to sum it up is by what I told you: we have set a trap, and you guys are both the jaws and the bait. You need to use what you know about Garden procedure to try and detect holes in their process. You need to use your intuition to figure things out before they do. You need to use what you remember."

A burst of static. "We'll be looking on this side for evidence. You two have to look on the other side. Work carefully and wisely. This entire setup is just a trap to tempt a traitor."

"Sir," Selphie asked timidly, "what if - what if the suspects are innocent?"

Cid grunted. "Then we tell them it was a training exercise, slap a rank promotion on them, and move on."

Selphie almost laughed.

Cid sighed, a long rush of static over the connection. "I'm sorry to do this to you," he said, the anger gone from his voice. "You were the only two who could successfully keep an eye on Galbadian- and Trabian-trained SeeD. But we're all behind you. If you need to contact me, use this line. Xu will be in Deling for another week or two; contact her if you need anything." He paused. "Your friends here send their best wishes. I've requested that they only contact you when they are out of uniform, just in case - but there's a vid-phone on that computer that you can use."

Selphie clapped her hands to her mouth to cover an excited squeal. "Yes, sir," she managed to get out.

"Now remember," he said. "You two are _not_ SeeD today. You're a young couple, the brother of which has vanished, and you are paying through your teeth to get him back. Keep pushing the issue. Try to catch them all off-guard. Be observant. And be careful."

"Yes, sir," Selphie said.

"Oh - and be Junctioned at all times. Just in case. Better safe then sorry - just don't let them Draw from you. Good day, you two," Cid said, and broke the connection.

There was a long silence.

"So that's it," Irvine said softly. 

"Our pasts..." Selphie said pensively. "My Trabian training... that's why."

She looked up at him. "What if they're people we remember?"

"Then we run," Irvine said sternly, "because - what if they remember us?"

"We say we quit?" she said, smile spreading over her face. "We fell desperately in love," she continued, teasing, "and left Garden to live together because we couldn't bear it."

"And the fake names?"

"Hiding from our parents," she said with a grin. 

"Why'd we hire SeeD then - why not do it ourselves?"

"Never passed." She shrugged. "C'mon, play along."

"Are you Junctioned, dear?"

She blinked. "No, actually," she admitted softly. "You know I haven't been since..."

"I know." His face was serious. "It's okay, Seff. I think we should be prepared."

A struggle was waging across her face; but finally, her concern won out. "Okay," she conceded. "I'll re-Junction everyone."

"Just pretend it's a battle," Irvine said, but her eyes were already closed.

She sought out that place deep in her mind, the mental state that allowed her to communicate and connect with these violent spirits. A surge of familiarity rushed through her mind and she smiled involuntarily. Quezacotl - her first _real_ junction, her closest friend in that strange anti-dimension world of GFs. The thunder bird had become her devoted companion and a fierce protector over their long journey. She felt its mind burst with excitement as they reconnected - Selphie's body and Quezacotl's spirit. 

Quezacotl rushed through her mind joyfully, then pulled itself back as it felt her instant shudder; she felt it pause, as if to say _what's wrong?_

_I don't want to lose any more of my mind,_ she said; communicating with the GFs was always an interesting experience. The powerful spirits tended to speak in images, pictures; their language was long lost, as were their physical forms. She knew now that they drew upon the people who used them in order to exist - sending their spirits into the bodies of others, giving them their fantastic powers in return for the shelter of the mind. _I will give you all the space you need, but ...I'm afraid._

She felt Quezacotl pondering over this in her mind; it gave a decisive nod, as if to say _send the rest in._

Tentatively, she reached out, looking for the spunky Carbuncle - aha! It felt the summons and came rushing forward, crowding into her mind exuberantly -

She felt Quezacotl admonish the small creature gently; Carbuncle paused, and then slowly reeled itself in. Selphie received the mental picture of the brilliant-colored Carbuncle curled up tightly in a ball, stashed somewhere in the corner of her mind. She couldn't help but giggle, thinking _thank you_ as hard as she could. 

Beside her, Irvine closed his eyes in concentration as well. The exuberant Brothers were waiting, resting in a tiny corner in his mind; he beckoned and was presented with a mental picture of Sacred tumbling over Minotaur in the rush to heed the call. Once the troublesome Brothers were in place he reached out again; elegant Leviathan slithered out of nothingness at the summons, flashing Irvine's subconscious with his long liquid length. Finally, Irvine reattached Cerberus, the fearsome three-headed dog who had become a strong ally. The GF bounded out into Irvine's head; for a brief second he felt it snap at the Brothers playfully and then curl up, ready for its master's command.

Living with the GFs was always interesting; it was what Irvine imagined schizophrenia would be like. The GFs had their own personalities, their own quirks; occasionally they argued with each other within the confines of their master's mind. It was never a good idea to link Ifrit and Shiva through the same person's mind; they bickered endlessly, though they liked to work together in battle. The mental strength required to connect with a GF was quite substantial; much like the finite control required to Draw and Junction magic.

Irvine simply handed all of his magic over to Cerberus; he trusted the fearsome GF to put the right spells in the right place. There was a rush through his body as something - Curaga? - connected; another fierce shiver as the three-headed beast attached spells to his defense and speed. It was disconcerting. But - these powers were necessary.

He felt Selphie's hand rest on his arm; he glanced at her. Her eyes were still closed, and Irvine figured she was manually connecting all of her magic. "How much Flare do you have?" she asked.

"100, but it's all hooked up," he said. "Sorry, Seff."

"I need something else..." Her closed eyes fluttered slightly.

"There's that Curaga point in the bedroom," he said. 

"Don't have Siren," she said, eyes scrunched shut again. "Can't see it."

"Ask Quezacotl to get it - I bet he can."

Her eyelashes quivered; there was a flash of light, and then she extended her hands toward the hidden Point, allowing her mind to drain the energy source of its power.

She opened her eyes. "Success."

"I know Quezacotl loves you the best," Irvine said in jest. "I tried to Junction him once - he sure didn't like it."

"They're just so competitive," Selphie said with a smile. "I just mentioned that Siren could do it and the next thing I knew - I could see it."

"Excellent," Irvine said. 

"Okay," Selphie said. "We only have half an hour before the SeeDs get here. We should go over some stuff."

They sat together on the couch, rehashing their mission and back-story until they had it perfect and could recite things in unison. Selphie smacked Irvine every time he let "Seff" slip, and by the time there was a knock on the door he was smoothly calling her "Fee" - although he had the bruises to show for it.

He opened the door. Four immaculately dressed SeeD officers stood outside, and Irvine _did_ recognize them from the train.

"We're SeeD," the one in the front said; a tall, dark-haired man, looking haughtily down his nose at Irvine.

"I can see that," the cowboy said, immediately not liking the man. "Come on in."

"My name is Darik, and I'm command for this mission," the man said. "This is Astra, and we're the Galbadian team."

_Figures,_ Irvine thought, as he greeted the woman behind him. She had very short, very pale blond hair cut in silky layers and disconcertingly light blue eyes; they scanned the room quickly, taking in every object - including Selphie.

"I'm Vanesa," a voice said from behind them. The luxurious redhead made her way through the door - around Astra's motionless body - and shook Irvine's hand delicately. "This is Dall. We both hail Trabia - though we're all working together on this mission," she said, directing it pointedly at Darik.

_Bickering already,_ Irvine thought. _Just like true SeeD - especially Galbadians._ "Here, come on in," he said. "I'm Vincent, and this is my wife, Fiona."

He tucked his arm around Selphie, who gave them a weak smile.

"Fee's brother is missing," he began, "and -"

"We know," Darik said, almost vehemently. "We've been briefed on this mission. Operation Desert Rose. You expect he's being held somewhere in the Desert Prison."

Selphie shuddered. "Yes," she whispered.

"Please take a nicer tone with my wife," Irvine said firmly. "She's very upset about the whole situation."

Darik stepped up to look him face to face; golden eyes met Irvine's deep violet ones. "That is a request from your client," Irvine said softly, emphasizing every word.

Darik gave him one last glare and stepped down.

"Well," Vanesa said, trying to break up the awkward situation. "Let's get seated and you can tell us what you'd like from us."

Irvine guided Selphie over to the couch; she was doing an excellent job of looking horribly upset, and Irvine was duly impressed.

The SeeDs filled in the spaces in the room; Darik threw himself down on the couch, and Vanesa perched herself next to him with a warning glare. Dall took the remaining chair after Astra showed no interest in it; the pale woman was leaning against a wall, her cool gaze scanning the room.

"So," Dall said. "Tell us what you know about your brother's disappearance."

Selphie swallowed and gathered trembling hands in front of her. "My brother has always been - a good person. He's always been trying to take care of me and momma, any way he can - but that doesn't ..." She took a deep breath; Irvine squeezed her hand. "Back around when Vin and I got engaged he started acting a little - odd. We didn't know why, and Ma and I were too distracted ...somehow, he got tangled up in a weapons deal. A bad one."

She bit her lip. "We didn't hear about it until last month - after the wedding. Supposedly a friend of his had hit him up for some cash, and my brother - well, of course he lent it out. And then more. And then the friend talked him into going into 'business' with him. He didn't find out what the business was until it was way too late."

"And then..." Her voice cracked quite convincingly. "And then he wanted out," she whispered.

Selphie looked up suddenly; the four SeeDs were looking at her with a mix of compassion and revulsion. "That's when he vanished," she said bravely, swallowing the tears. "We haven't heard from him in two weeks."

"This isn't normal for your brother?"

"Not at all." Selphie looked down at her hands. "He can't go two days without calling to check up on us - me and Ma." She looked back up at the SeeDs, her eyes bright with challenge. "We need you to find him."

"We've checked the contract," Dall said. "It says we're yours until we find him - and we will find him."

Selphie was fully aware of these binding contracts; much too often SeeD arrangements took on nebulous definitions like _the liberation of Timber_, for example. "Thank you," she whispered.

"So," Vanesa said. "What makes you think he's in the Desert Prison?"

Selphie looked up, wide-eyed with innocence. "I just figured that's where they'd keep him," she said.

Irvine coughed gently. "What she means is - when he first expressed a desire to get out of the deal, he was threatened with confinement in the Desert Prison. He told us this the night he confessed to everything." He put a comforting hand around Selphie's shoulders. "So we just expect that these criminals - would go through on the promise."

Darik shifted on the couch. "Although we are bound by contract in this, I want you to know that Galbadia Garden only funded this mission to get the link on the weapons traders," he said harshly. "We do have other interests to operate under, and you need to understand that the security of our Garden ranks just as highly as -"

"Bloody Ifrit, Darik," Vanesa said, tossing her flaming hair over her shoulder, fire in her eyes. "Have some sense, for Hyne's sake! It's this girl's _brother_ you're talking about! And besides, our contract states that the mission's goal is the _rescue_, not the infiltration!"

Darik remained on the couch, his arms crossed. "You care more about orders and protocol than the safety of our Garden. Bloody sentimental Trabians."

Vanesa leapt to her feet. "And you care more about the prestige of Garden than the people you're _sworn_ to serve! Just like a Galbadian."

Darik was on his feet in a flash as well. "You're letting your emotions get in the way," he growled.

"And you're letting your ambition take over your orders!"

"You're embarrassing us."

Astra's voice was cold, cutting through the anger in the room like a knife. She came forward now from her post on the wall and looked from one to the other.

"This behavior," she said, staring at Darik and then snapping her head to Vanesa, "is unacceptable."

There was an awkward silence in the room.

Inwardly, Irvine was amused - and thrilled. _This is the most incompetent batch of SeeDs I've ever seen! They argue more than Squall and Seifer._ He wanted desperately some way to continue the argument - he had a feeling that it would reveal some valuable information.

"May I ask," he said, trying not to sound too offended, "what the issue here is?"

Four sets of eyes turned to him - five, including Selphie's, which were full of surprise.

"I mean," Irvine continued, his hands up as if to ward off an attack, "I really have no experience with SeeD, and I don't really know what's going on - but it seems to me that you guys have never worked together before, right?"

Silence; finally, Dall nodded.

"Well, look," Irvine said. "I think that maybe - maybe this is just me - you guys should work through these problems before we begin this mission." Darik gave him a glare and he put up his hands again, palms facing the fierce young man. "I don't care that you guys don't get along - but I'd rather you fought here than on the actual mission."

He stood up. "So like, why don't you work things out right now. Fee and I can give you some privacy if you'd like. I think - you guys should resolve this before it's too late."

There was a pause, and then Vanesa nodded. "Yeah, if you don't mind," she said bitterly, "I'd like to talk some things over with my fellow teammates."

Irvine took Selphie's hand and pulled her toward the computer room. "We'll wait in here," he said. "Take your time."

He shut the door behind them and gave Selphie a grin. "You're brilliant," she whispered to him, taking her seat at the computer and punching up the cameras. 

"Well, they're certainly not," Irvine whispered in response as the pictures loaded.

"-know Trabia and Galbadia do things very differently," Dall was saying, "but that is no reason for us to be bickering like little kids."

"You've humiliated us," Astra said, her voice still cold and emotionless, "in front of our clients."

"She's a mini-Fujin," Selphie whispered.

"Yeah, and that kid's Seifer," Irvine whispered back, tapping Darik's face on the screen.

Vanesa was sitting on the floor, her face furious. "You have to take back what you said about Trabia," she said huffily to Darik.

"Ness..." Dall reached out and tried to take her hand; she shrugged him off. A pained expression clouded his face.

"Aha," Selphie said under her breath. "The plot thickens."

Vanesa looked up at Darik. "Why would they send someone like you on a mission where you had to work with Trabian graduates?"

"Why isn't there a team from Balamb?" Astra asked suddenly.

All three faces turned to look at her.

"Don't you think," she said strictly, "it's a little odd to send teams from two of the Gardens and not the third?"

"Maybe the Balamb team couldn't make it," Darik said vehemently. "Balamb's a mess nowadays."

"You're just bitter," Vanesa said.

"What's wrong with Balamb?" Dall asked.

Darik's face twisted. "Their Headmaster's fallen off the boat, and control of the whole Garden has fallen to that Leonhart kid - you know, the one who fought off the Sorceress."

Dall shrugged. "What's wrong with that?"

"His girlfriend's a Sorceress!" Darik hissed. 

Vanesa shook her head. "You -"

"The guy in charge of Balamb -"

"Are just jealous, because -"

"Is in love with the girl -"

"Rinoa Heartilly danced with -"

"Who's going to be the next Sorceress!"

"Him instead of you."

Vanesa and Darik were glaring daggers at each other at this point. Astra calmly stepped between them and, extending her arms, forcefully shoved them apart.

"Look," the pale woman said, and her voice was venomous. 

"I will appoint myself Commander for this mission," Astra said softly but forcefully, "if you two can't put this all aside and work together. This is a Mission." Her icy voice emphasized every word. "We are Mercenaries. We have been Hired." A long finger reached out to point vehemently at Darik and then Vanesa. "If you cannot complete the mission, I will relieve you of command."

There was silence. "Now," Astra said quietly. "Are we ready to work?"

Darik and Vanesa looked sufficiently chastised. Astra looked from one to the next and then at Dall. "I want promises from all of you," she said succinctly, "that none of this - prejudice - will surface for the rest of the mission. Understood?"

Selphie and Irvine traded glances in front of the screen.

"Damn," Selphie whispered; it was rare for her to swear at _anything_.

"We'll have to re-watch that later," Irvine said urgently. "Save it and hide it."

Selphie's nervous fingers flew on the keyboard.

  
  
  



	11. Eleven: tossing and turning

  
  
_note: i pondered on this chapter, decided i didn't like it, revised it. a little happier.  
it's still short and sweet - 'aww, how sweet' kind of sweet. heh._   
  
  


**Chapter Eleven**

  
  


_"Bloody Ifrit,"_ Vanesa's tinny voice repeated on the computer screen, "_Have some sense, for Hyne's sake! It's this girl's brother you're talking about!_"

Selphie paused playback and, tapping her finger on the screen, said matter-of-factly, "That girl's Trabian, born and bred, for sure."

"How do you know?" Irvine had pulled a chair up next to her and was watching the screen over her shoulder as usual.

"Well, first off, she has the same accent as my old best friend Trissa," Selphie said absentmindedly, panning the video back a couple seconds. "Second, 'Bloody Ifrit' is a horribly Trabian saying. Dead giveaway."

Irvine pondered this. "Well, at least it tells us that she's who she says she is," he said. "What next?"

"_Bloody Ifrit, Darik. Have some sense, for Hyne's sake!"_ The tape wheeled through the argument again. Selphie drummed her fingers on the desk in thought.

"I don't understand," she said. "They're so..."

"Unprofessional?" Irvine asked, chuckling slightly. "These SeeDs couldn't save a cat out of a paper bag."

"I don't know." Selphie passed the tape forward to land on Astra's furious face. "Bet this girl could do the job herself."

"Or she'd eat the cat," Irvine said with a shudder. "Too much like Fujin."

"At least she uses full sentences," Selphie said, amused.

They were reviewing everything they had on tape; Selphie, of course, was running the replay on the cameras, while Irvine watched, trying desperately to learn the computer commands and failing miserably. Selphie really was a genius at this stuff, he had realized; she flew through it without a problem. And chatted while she did it.

They watched the argument again in full force; they'd been in front of the computer for so long Irvine had joked about a bag of popcorn. They replayed the end - _"I want promises from all of you,"_ Astra's cold voice said - and then watched as they re-entered the room. 

  
  


_"We've resolved the differences," Darik announced, his voice unusually low. "We apologize for wasting your time."_

_Irvine shrugged. "I don't really understand how you guys operate," he lied. "It's fine."_

_"So." The red-headed Vanesa rearranged herself on the couch. "I'm suggesting we split up and get some work done. Two of us should stay here and gather information from you two, and the other two should set off on the trail of the weapons traders and see what we can find. How does that sound?"_

_Selphie nodded. "That should work. I don't know what other information we have, but I'll be glad to help with anything." She gave a little sniffle._

_"We'll go," Darik offered. "Astra's a genius on intelligence. You two stay here and scope out the town."_

_Vanesa nodded. "Can do, sir," she said pleasantly._

  
  


"I don't understand it," Selphie said. "Bickering and fighting, then working smoothly?"

Irvine shrugged. "I have no idea what we're supposed to do now," he admitted.

Selphie looked up at him as he stood and stretched. "Dinner?" she suggested cheerfully.

The next day went very smoothly. Vanesa and Dall came over in the morning, wearing street clothes, and passed on all of the information that Astra has messaged them overnight. Apparently the girl really _was_ a genius and had, following Selphie's hints, latched onto the trail of one of the traders (a lead that, with Selphie's prompting, Balamb had put into place). Astra and Darik were going to follow them and see what they could find. Vanesa duly handed the printout over, hoping details would jog Selphie's - Fiona's - memory. She and Selphie chatted on the couch; Irvine, seeing an opportunity, headed out to the balcony, where Dall was enjoying a smoke.

"Hey." The boy's voice was unexpectedly gruff. He was quite a good-looking kid - sandy hair falling into bright blue eyes, a small sheen of freckles on an otherwise spotless face. He offered Irvine a smoke; the cowboy declined.

"What do you think of our chances?" he asked the boy quietly under his breath.

Dall shrugged. "Am I really supposed to say?" he asked awkwardly.

"I've told you before, I don't care about protocol," Irvine bluffed. "What do you think about Fee's brother?"

"If anyone can find him, it'll be that Astra girl."

"I thought you'd never worked with her before."

"Haven't." Dall puffed and blew smoke. "But I know of her. We all do. She's a techno-genius. And she follows Darik around like a puppy dog."

Irvine snorted. "Is it love?"

Dall winced noticeably. "I doubt it," he stammered. "She just ...doesn't have many friends. And Darik is quite ...authoritative."

Irvine narrowed his eyes. "Wait a second," he said with a broad smile. "Are you in love with her?"

Dall looked up at him, eyes wide - then laughed. "No, no," he said hastily, "not her."

Then he bit his lip as if he'd said too much.

"Ahh," Irvine said. "Vanesa?"

Dall threw a glance over his shoulder. "Yeah," he admitted. "We've been - together for a while. But it's hard - seeing her with Darik. They used to..."

"Huh?"

He threw another glance over his shoulder and said to Irvine softly, "They used to date. They met on some training run and really hit it off - and then they found out where the other was from."

"What's the problem?"

Dall sighed and puffed his smoke. "Um..."

Irvine waited.

"Galbadia Garden ...killed Vanesa's parents," he said softly. "Look, you can't tell her I told you. But back when - when it was flying around and out of control - or under the Sorceress's control - it dive-bombed a couple towns ...including hers."

He sighed. "That combined with the Trabian bombing nearly made her quit. But she decided to push on and try to make a difference." He smirked. "She's amazing."

Dall turned back to Irvine. "But she's never really forgiven anyone from Galbadia," he said.

Irvine sighed. This was the problem with SeeD. Garden was never really able to forget that their mercenaries, their trained elite staff, were real people with real pasts. And all too often these pasts were full of hurt and pain, horrible terrible things. Lives that had changed forever in a moment.

He wondered for a moment if the others had been better off without their memories - able to believe that they were normal people making a difference. He wondered if it _did_ make a difference - knowing you were an orphan? Was that better motivation, or worse?

Selphie would have said it was better to know. 

But someone a little different - Quistis, perhaps, or even Squall - would have said it wasn't.

And Irvine would have said nothing. Turned on the charm, the cowboy eyes and handsome smirk, and made the question go away.

He didn't like when he didn't know the answer.

Dall took one last drag on his smoke and said, "Let's get back to those girls, eh?"

They came back inside to find Vanesa and Selphie chatting away about Trabia. 

"So you're from the area?" Selphie asked. Irvine came to sit beside her on the couch, tucking one arm around her slim waist. There was a glint in her eyes as she glanced at him and glanced back.

Vanesa nodded, rich red hair shimmering. "I grew up within a stone's throw of the Garden," she said. "Born and bred, pure Trabian."

Selphie smiled. "What's Trabia like? I heard you guys were hit by missiles during all the confusion..."

_Aha._ Irvine squeezed her hand - she was pumping the girl for information!

Vanesa sighed. "Trabia was so beautiful," she said. "It was the friendliest of all the Gardens - focusing on helping the world, rather than being competitive like Galbadia or technologically advanced like Balamb. Or that's how I felt, at least. But when the missiles struck, we lost a lot of that."

"Did a lot of people die?" Selphie prodded her.

Vanesa looked down at her hands. "Yes," she said softly. "We lost a lot of good people. But that's not all - the rest of the people there ...their spirits died. Trabia's lost its spirit."

"What do you mean?" Selphie sat up, unusually attentive.

"Well..." Vanesa played with her fingers in her lap and then looked up at Selphie, her eyes soft. "After we were bombed we all tried to reunite everyone and rebuild. But bit by bit, people left us. Decided they didn't care. All the high-ranking SeeD we sent to Balamb to get certified - not one came back. Half our Instructors left us for Galbadia. And no one has come to help us or check on us." She sighed.

Selphie's face was white. "That's ...horrible," she managed to get out. She reached up to squeeze Irvine's hand; he could feel her little fingers trembling. 

A fierce glint suddenly appeared in Vanesa's eyes. "That's why I'm hoping I can help Trabia," she said. "It's been abandoned by so many people who used to care about it. And I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure Trabia becomes what it should."

Selphie gulped.

Vanesa and Dall left soon after, promising to come by in two days with the rest of the information from Astra and Darik. Irvine proposed a cheerful dinner down at a nearby club, but Selphie was strangely quiet. She sat through the meal, listening to Irvine, but the usual spark in her eyes was dimmed and dulled. They returned to the apartment in companionable silence; Selphie retreated to the computer room, tapping away at something. Irvine shrugged and headed for the couch with his guitar.

What was bothering her? He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it was obvious that something was on her mind. And he didn't want to glibly assume that he was innocent; had he done something to make her angry? He hadn't been his normal playful self the past couple days, but that was explainable - this was a mission. Would she be mad about that?

He just wanted to make her smile.

He hit a couple chords on the guitar and then started playing one of his favorite songs. Over the din he could hear Selphie humming along from the computer room. She couldn't be that angry, then. He grinned at the Exeter and then smoothly moved into another old favorite. 

Finally, Selphie showed up at the door. "Vin - you're so good!"

He looked at her, giving her a heartwarming half-smile. "Not really."

"That song's pretty hard," she said, leaning against the doorframe. Irvine saw that she looked - _tired_, worn-out. Her eyes were cheerful but empty, her face drawn. What had she been doing?

"It took me a long time to learn it," she continued, and Irvine snapped to attention.

"It took you - you play guitar?"

Selphie blushed and nodded. "Yep."

He looked at her, astounded. "You - for how long?"

She gave him a tired grin. "For a while," she said. "I played all the time at Trabia. It was a little difficult to play at Balamb, really, with all the stuff to do."

"Here." Irvine carefully extended the sleek black guitar before him. "Play me something."

She shook her head. "Not right now, Vin."

"I want to hear you," he urged.

She brushed a strand of hair from her face. "I'm not in the mood for performing," she said. "I'll play it tomorrow."

"Do you just want to go to bed?" Irvine asked gently. She nodded, exhaustion written across her face - and Irvine wondered again what was irking her. Was the computer work that challenging? 

"Come on, you," he said playfully. "Get your pajamas on and I'll tuck you in."

Selphie giggled and dutifully headed into the bathroom, emerging in her green pj pants and little white t-shirt, yawning. Irvine had turned back the sheets and she gratefully climbed in. He turned the lights off and got ready for bed himself, eventually climbing in beside her carefully.

He rested back on the pillow, listening for the smooth sound of Selphie's breathing, expecting to be soothed into sleep. It had been strangely comforting to have the small girl sleeping beside him, her soft breath and small movements calming in the dark night. He relaxed, thinking back on the day. They were no closer to solving the mystery, but there was still time.

He thought back to how he and Selphie had settled in together; Irvine had been very careful, restrained, even. It was awkward for him, but he didn't think she had noticed. He had decided to play it safe. He didn't want her to look back and think that he had taken advantage of the mission - the Vincent-Fiona dynamic - to do something he normally wouldn't.

She rolled over, and he suddenly realized that she had been tossing and turning for quite a while. He kept his entire body still, listening to her. She shifted, grunted, moved again. Finally sprawled out on her back and sighed loudly.

"What's up, Seff?"

The sound of his voice must have startled her, for she jumped a bit. "I thought you were asleep," she chastised him gently. 

"With you tossing and turning? No way," he teased.

Her face fell, and he hurried - "No, I didn't mean it like that. That's the thing about sharing a bed with someone - you can always tell when something's keeping them up."

She turned away slightly. "I've never really shared a bed with someone, Vin. I thought you were sleeping."

He flushed, but in the darkness there was no way to tell. "Do you want to talk about something?"

Selphie sighed and shifted somewhat in the bed. "I just keep thinking about Trabia," she said softly. "What Vanesa said earlier about being ...abandoned. Do you think I've done the right thing?"

"What?" Irvine shook his head. "What alternatives were there?"

He felt, rather than saw, the shrug of her shoulders. "I don't know. When we went back to Trabia - I could have stayed to help. But that was when - when we all found out who we were. Who you were. And who Matron was. Trabia was just driven out of my mind."

"That's understandable," Irvine said gently. "I don't think anyone would ask you to put Garden before your memories."

"What do you think a GF does?" Selphie asked bitterly. "They had us use these tools, these fantastic forces, to put safety before our personal lives."

"You can't remember anything if you're dead," Irvine replied. "You know, as well as I do-"

"Yes," she whispered, "I know."

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light he could see her, wide-eyed, her face a pale shadow above the blanket. "Here," he said. "Sit up."

Bemused, Selphie did; Irvine took her pillow and his and stacked them against the headboard. He then gently pushed Selphie back so she was sitting upright, resting against the pillows. He arranged himself cross-legged beside her.

"Let's figure out how to make you feel better," he said.

Selphie smiled. Irvine had never been one to dwell on the tough stuff - he was always looking for the solutions, the answers, the next step. It was like the celebration at FH he had helped her with, all the parties he had helped her throw - why dwell on the bad when there was a way to make it better?

But she shrugged. Irvine was a pale shadow in a land of darker ones; she could barely make out his face. The warmth of his presence was comforting, and she wanted to just curl up and forget everything.

"Seff, there was nothing you could do. Now come on. The past is the past, and you know as well as I do that we didn't always have any choices. Sometimes we had to walk one way, and only one way. We had to stay true to the path that _had_ to be taken."

He reached out in familiar Irvine fashion and squeezed her hand. "Now, what will make you feel better?"

"But..." Her voice trailed off. "Do you think I've abandoned them?"

"Not a chance." She could feel him shaking his head. "There was good for you to do in Balamb, and that's where you chose to do it. There's nothing wrong with that, Seff."

"I didn't go back," she insisted. "I didn't go check. What sort of friend am I?"

"You _did_ go check, Selphie," he said, his voice urgent. "You made all of us fly Balamb Garden back so that you could check on Trabia after the missiles. And then other things required your help."

She winced. "More important things?"

"Only you can answer that, Seff," he said gently. "But I don't think you've done anything wrong. Like I've said before - we couldn't always choose our paths. Your path took you away from Trabia. For better or worse, this is where you've ended up. You have to decide what to do with what you have."

"But I had a choice. I'm a coward," she said intensely. "Am I afraid to go back? Is that it?"

"No," Irvine said. "There are all kinds of courage. You have so much of it, Seff, even if you don't know it. Brave little girl. You always were." 

"What if I'm too scared to go back?"

Irvine paused in thought. "Seff, you're braver than anything. If you don't think you have the courage now - use the courage of your past. You were always spunky as hell and you never took 'no' for an answer unless you wanted it. Just call on the courage you used to have until yours comes back." _As if that makes sense._ He bit his tongue.

She was quiet for a moment, thinking things over. "Do you think I should go back?"

"Do you want to?"

She nodded slowly. "Yes and no. I want to go back and take care of them, but - I don't want to lose all of my friends at Balamb."

"How about this," Irvine said. "We'll take a trip after this mission. You and I can take the leave days we get out of this operation here and we'll go up to Trabia. Take a look around. See what they need. And then you can figure things out from there."

That was typical Irvine - such a simple, heartfelt solution. He always knew what to say. She didn't think for a moment that he was serious about taking her, but - he always knew exactly how she felt. And that had been what she wanted to hear, what she wanted to do.

"That sounds great," she said, her voice thick with tears. Surprised, she let out a half-gasp, half-sob. Was she crying?

Irvine looked down at her in the darkness. She gazed up at him, her eyes bright with emotion. She wanted to tell him - something important. What?

"Irvine, I..."

And something broke inside of him. He didn't want to hear it, didn't want to force out the words she thought she had to say. It was too hard for both of them. He reached out, cupping her face in his hand, whispering, "Shhh, Selphie, don't," stroking her cheek with his thumb. "Don't, Seff." Her little face looking up at his, his fingers warm on her skin.

He leaned forward and kissed her.

For a second she was surprised - but this was no gentle kiss. Irvine's warm hand stroking her face, pulling her closer, his lips pressing warmly against hers. Sweet. Caring. She kissed him back and felt him gasp as she responded. Her hands, moving of their own volition, went around his neck, pulling him closer, her fingers tangling themselves in his soft hair. This kiss was culmination - their lips whispering ardent words of nothing against each other, arms tightly binding them together.

Finally Irvine came back to reality and pulled himself away briefly, looking down at Selphie with concern in his eyes.

She looked back up at him, worried and yet defiant. Had he still been playing along? Was that Irvine who had kissed her - or was it Vincent, kissing Fiona?

He was gazing at her with all that pain and concern in his eyes - guilt, perhaps, mixed with longing? A long moment of silence came and settled in-between them, the brief space between their faces. 

Irvine was horribly nervous.

He hadn't meant to do that - and yet he had - and he was worried that Selphie didn't really mean it - that she was just playing along. But she was staring at him, concern written all over her face, fire in her eyes. He wanted to kiss her again. And again.

He swallowed everything else, hiding the fear and the doubt and the pain, and just smiled at her, whispering her name.

And she smiled back at him, her heart soaring. "Irvy," she whispered back, and pulled him down to kiss her again.


	12. Twelve: distraction

  
  


_Plot? WTF did I think I was doing introducing a plot? Ah, well. I've fixed what I didn't like about the way this story was turning (at least I think I have). And remember - all of this has a purpose. Else I wouldn't bother._

_Enough of the plot. On to more Irvy goodness!!_

  
  
  
  


Chapter Twelve

distraction

  
  


He woke up to the smell of coffee and a new outlook on life.

Surprising how one night could turn one cowboy upside down.

Irvine stared at the ceiling, wondering at the strange sense of happiness that had invaded his senses, taking over his cowardly brain with one swift move - checkmate. It was astounding. None of the questions or weaknesses or awkwardness remained. He was happier than he'd been in - well, years, really.

And she - the authoress of his smile - had made him coffee.

He crawled out of bed and went over, putting his arms around her and smiling. "Morning, Seff," he said gruffly.

She looked surprised, but turned to hug him back. "Morning, Vin. I made your coffee already."

"I can smell it." He didn't move; simply rested there, his arms around her thin waist, looking at her with a silly smile. Selphie. 

This was no longer about protection, separation and secrets and hesitation. It was only about Selphie. Only about making her happy. She had smiled last night. It was about devotion.

She was looking at him, a humorous smile on her face. "You have to let me go if you want your coffee," she said gently.

"Do I have to?" Irvine said slyly; Selphie rolled her eyes, grinning, and he released her. She went and filled two mugs with the delicious brown warmth and brought them over to the small table. Irvine pulled his chair around to sit beside her; she looked delighted.

Good. Delighted.

They turned the pages of the newspaper, seated so close that arms brushed hands brushed elbows. Glorious contact. Selphie scanned the front page; Irvine stole the comics. She took them away; he rolled up the entertainment section and bopped her with it. Smiles all around.

No more questions. What had happened had happened and it was wonderful.

They finished their coffee in comfortable silence. Selphie went to take her shower and Irvine cunningly took the opportunity to put pancakes on the stove. They weren't hard - dry mix, milk, egg. Butter in the pan, cook until they bubble around the edges, flip carefully. Not a lesson one would learn in SeeD, but a good one nonetheless.

The surprise on her face when she walked out of the bathroom was all the reward he needed.

She opened the door and laughed immediately, the delicious smell wafting through the air. "What are you doing out there?" she asked, her voice happy. "What smells so good?"

"Take a guess," he called.

Selphie walked into the kitchen and squealed. "Pancakes!" She gave a little hop of excitement and turned - the table was already set. "You're making me breakfast?"

Irvine smiled at her. "Why not?"

She was amazed. "I didn't know you knew how to cook."

He stuck out his tongue. "Be nice, or I'll spit in them."

She shook her head as he set the first plate before her. "Vin- you didn't have to do this."

"I know," he said as he turned for the batter. "That's why I did."

Selphie ushered him into the shower before he could do all the dishes. Irvine caught himself humming and chuckled, the sound echoing in the rushing water. Was this all it took? That one step - that little bit of courage - and all problems were solved?

No more qualms, no more questions. It was all or nothing, and Irvine was out to show Selphie what sincerity was really like. All or nothing. Last chance. 

The target had vanished. He hadn't even had to take aim.

But what to do today? They'd have to meet with the SeeDs. But even the mission had paled in comparison. Perhaps he could take her out tonight? Let her know that it was for real - not the womanizing cowboy, not Vincent and Fiona, but pure Kinneas, from the heart. 

He toweled off his hair and pulled it back into his familiar ponytail. Dancing, perhaps?

Selphie was tapping on the computer when he came out; Irvine bent down to kiss the top of her head and asked, "Whatcha working on?"

She blushed. "Trying to see if there are any new operatives from Balamb. Checking all the vid lines. What are you working on?"

"Watching you," he said simply, his fingers stroking her hair.

She blushed again, but leaned back, resting her head on his warmth. This was so thrilling to her - comfortable nervousness. 

"Let's go out tonight," Irvine said suddenly.

Selphie lifted her head and turned to face him. "What do you mean?"

"C'mon. Let's go out, you and me. Selphie and Irvine. Night out on the town. I promise you, baby, it'll be a great time." His mind was already whirling with plans.

"But we're not - we have to be Vincent and Fiona," she reprimanded him gently. 

"Then Vincent and Fiona will have a night out," he said firmly. "Come on, Seff. It'll look perfectly natural."

Selphie wanted badly to give in - it would be so much fun just hanging out again, out on the town with Irvine, dressed up and having fun. She racked the sensible part of her brain, trying to find reasons why she should refuse; none came to mind. The sensible part of her brain seemed to be out for lunch.

"Okay," she said, and his entire face lit up.

"You look excited," she teased him.

Irvine laughed. "Well, I was expecting to have to resort to the puppy-dog eyes," he admitted. "I hate that."

"You don't do puppy dog eyes," Selphie said to him.

Irvine chuckled. "Not exactly. They're more like cute-little-Irvy eyes."

"Whatever," she snorted. "I can resist you."

She turned back to the computer, trying to keep the smile from spreading across her face. Irvine vanished around the corner; she heard him rustling through some of the drawers and covered her mouth to suppress the giggle. He reappeared around the corner. Selphie kept her eyes glued to the computer screen, summoning forth all of her willpower to not look at him. And not smile.

He sauntered over to her; she could see him from the corner of her eyes, around the edges of the screen. A hint of a grin tickled her lips - _stop it!_ She felt him pause right beside her, arrange himself, and then gently cough.

"Not looking," she murmured, eyes still locked on the screen. 

"Oh yes you are," Irvine said playfully. "We'll see who gives in first."

"Hah!" Selphie turned, her eyes sparkling with the challenge - 

He sat there, chin casually resting in one hand, the famous handsome smirk spreading across his handsome face. His beautiful eyes were sparkling beneath the famous cowboy hat - _he had the hat?_ - and fixated on hers immediately. Silky tendrils of hair framed his fascinating smile. Selphie couldn't get away from the eyes, however - beautiful deep violet and blue, shimmering with desire and genuine sincerity. His entire face was focused on her, hinging on her every word. Selphie suddenly understood how Irvine Kinneas had earned his reputation - one look like this, and he could have had any woman. She suspected even cold Quistis would have melted eventually. Pure physical beauty was a strange primal power in itself.

His mouth twitched into that genuine smile she recognized, and with his eyes still so soft and desperate he asked: "Selphie, will you go out with me tonight?"

He was _such_ a tease.

She turned back to the computer, finally letting the smile spread across her own lips. "Of course."

He stood up then, straightening the hat. "You haven't said anything about the puppy dog eyes," he pointed out.

She sighed with a grin. "You're right. There's no way I could resist that. Looks like you've been practicing for quite a while."

"Savin' it all up for you, darlin'," he said, and adjusted the hat.

"You brought the hat?" she exclaimed then.

He actually blushed. "I love this hat," he said sulkily. 

"You just be sure to put it away before we have company," she chastised. "I'm sure someone would recognize the Galbadian Cowboy wearing such a famous hat."

He took it off and turned it over in his hands. "But - but Selphie..."

"No buts." Briskly she stood up and nabbed the hat from his hands. He pouted at her. "And don't you dare try to get out of this by turning on the charm. You read the orders. No hat!"

"You're so _mean!_"

"You sound like Zell." 

Irvine stuck his tongue out at her; she set the hat on her own head and struck a pose, hands on her hips, a smirk on her face. It was a silent symbol, a connection: _this girl belongs to that cowboy. And he belongs to her._

There was a knock on the door.

Selphie gave a squeal of surprise and bolted away to hide the hat; Irvine tried to sober up and opened the door.

The four SeeD cadets were standing there; he must have looked guilty, for Astra's eyes narrowed. He gave them a weak smile and opened the door: "Come on in."

Darik entered the room. "I hope you don't mind we're here early," he said loudly. "We were going to meet anyway, and we thought this was an appropriate place to do it."

Vanesa gave him a glare. "How are you two," she greeted Selphie and Irvine.

"We're alright," Selphie - Fiona - said. "Any news?"

"Bits and pieces," the redhead said. "We wanted to get together and plan out a strategy for getting to and into the Desert Prison."

"We thought we'd just work over here so that we can check our actions with you guys," Dall added.

Irvine glanced at Selphie, grinned, and then glanced back. "You guys know that we don't have any sort of experience with this kind of thing, right?"

Darik gave a slow smile. "Of course," he said. "We just thought that this would be a nice, private place for us to work out our own details."

There was some sort of emphasis on his words that made Irvine pause; but Darik was acting normally otherwise (_normal_, of course, meaning _noisy and arrogant_), and Irvine calmed down. There was no way the boy could have figured things out.

He saw Selphie watching him from across the room, trying to read his mind; he walked over and gave her a quick kiss. She blushed. 

He turned around; four sets of eyes suddenly averted. "What do you need from us?" he asked.

"Nothing yet," Vanesa said cheerfully. "We'll let you know as you go."

"Would you care for some coffee or something to drink?" Selphie offered.

"Coffee would be great," Dall admitted.

Selphie put on a pot, cheerfully humming; Irvine followed her into the kitchen, putting his arms around her waist and squeezing. Soft giggles floated out to the four SeeDs trying diligently to focus on their planning.

They were there all day, an odd mix of relaxation and diligent focus. Not that Selphie and Irvine noticed. They went and played on the computer; they sat on the balcony and ate sandwiches while watching the people pass by. They laughed, they snuggled, they teased. It was their own separate world. Irvine's entire day was focused on making Selphie happy; and Selphie was lost in the realization that Irvine was treating her like gold. It would have been confusing had it not been exhilarating.

The SeeD squad left for lunch and came back in twos; Vanesa and Dall had eaten close-by while Darik and Astra apparently had returned to the hotel. The Galbadian SeeDs came back shortly after and they got back to business, drawing up a little map of the Desert Prison and finalizing their plans.

Had Irvine been watching, he would have finally been impressed by their professionalism. The team of four was quickly consolidating into a close-knit operative - though Dall was still the outsider and Astra was still silent and cold - and were finally being efficient. It was a shame that they were under suspicion, because they truly were good SeeDs.

But Irvine wasn't watching. He and Selphie were playing pinball on the computer and trying not to laugh out loud.

A voice called out: "Hey, we're done, want to take a look?"

Selphie and Irvine looked at each other and tried - unsuccessfully - to sober up. "Sure," Selphie replied, and eagerly jumped from the chair. Irvine followed more slowly.

She was bending over the map eagerly, taking in every inch of this plan. It honestly looked as if her entire life depended on understanding this, and Irvine had to admire her resolve. She was dedicated to the cause, certainly; he was a little giddy.

The SeeDs detailed their plan; Irvine was only half-listening, but it all sounded genuinely good. Selphie was paying a little more attention, nodding intently.

They finished explaining and she clapped her hands. "I'm no judge of military matters," she said softly, "but you speak with so much confidence that - I believe - you're finally giving me hope."

She reached up and squeezed Irvine's hand. "I trust you - I have faith in you. Best of luck."

Irvine nodded at them. "Thank you for being so dedicated. I'm sure everything will work out."

They stood up and stretched; Selphie wandered off into the bedroom. Irvine gave them a shy smile and offered: "That's the first time she's smiled in forever. She's been so worried ...it's all I can do to keep her happy. You've given her hope. Thank you."

Vanesa smiled broadly. "It's the least we can do," she said.

"Your trust is not misplaced," Astra said.

Darik even said, "You should take her out tonight - get her mind off of things. We'll start the plan tomorrow, and she'll be worrying once we're gone."

The kindness was so uncharacteristic that Irvine blinked, and then grinned. "Maybe I will," he said. "I think that's what we both need."

He closed the door behind him, smiling. They could pass the afternoon in relaxation and then head out for the evening.

He took out his guitar and started picking through a couple songs; to his delight, Selphie joined him, and they sat on the couch together, trading songs and stories.

Finally, Irvine stretched and headed for the kitchen. "Good gracious, look at the time," he drawled. "Fee darling, you should get ready - we're going out tonight!"

"Vinny dear," she called from the bedroom, "I'm already there."

Selphie could hear the soft strains of a folk song through the bathroom door as she changed. She had dug out - didn't even know why she brought it - an old favorite dress of hers: a soft navy-blue silk affair, long and swirly. It flared when she spun, like her hair, and her old Trabian friends had always teased her about the "flippy dress and the flippy girl". Selphie always did a lot of spinning when she went out. It was fun.

She had put the dress on and was pleased to find it still fit; the neckline was much like that of her favorite yellow jumper, pretty but nothing indecent. She wore her favorite silver locket and a couple bangle bracelets. Not a lot of makeup. Her hair was in its special curls.

She looked into the mirror; a sad-faced but lovely girl looked back at her. The dress was full of memories - the first Festival she had been a part of at Trabia. Friends who were gone. A ballroom that no longer existed.

Why did all her memories bring her pain?

She felt Quezacotl stirring in her mind; the thunder-bird paused, and then brought forth a different memory: Selphie, having her picture taken in the dress with her laughing friends. Many of them were missing. Gone after Trabia fell. 

_Why are you showing me this?_

Quezacotl paused, and the image became clearer: Selphie, _smiling._

She understood. Memories are not there to hurt: they are meant to heal.

_Thank you._

The thunder bird buzzed slightly in response, sending tingles over her skin, and faded back into her subconscious.

She opened the door and gasped.

"You're wearing - _real_ - nice clothes!" was the first thing that came to mind. _You are the most gorgeous man alive_ was the second, but she decided not to blurt that one out.

Irvine laughed at her.

He was wearing black pants and a soft gray button shirt with a long black coat much like his old tan duster, trimmed in soft creamy fabric. His hair was pulled back in its loose ponytail. His eyes twinkled.

"You can clean me up," he drawled, and came forward to take her arm: "But you'll outshine me."

Selphie gave him a genuine smile.

The evening was fantastic. They went dancing all night, much to Selphie's delight; she had never been able to find a man who could out-dance her, but Irvine Kinneas definitely came close. They spun from club to club, ending up in the place beneath the hotel where Julia Heartilly had played long ago. They bought drinks when they wanted a break and then headed back to dance the night away.

Selphie had more fun than she had ever had. She had never really trusted Irvine to take her out, but he was all attentiveness. Her closest friend. He smiled when she smiled and laughed when she laughed. And he was quite a dancer.

Finally they made it back to the apartment. Irvine held the door for Selphie with a wink; she headed in and flopped down on the bed. "I'm exhausted, Vin!"

"C'mon, Seff. Just change into your stuff and we can go to bed."

She stood up and cautiously headed over to him, putting her arms around his waist and leaning her head against his chest. 'Thank you, Irvine," she said softly. "That was fantastic."

"I've got plenty more if you're interested," Irvine replied.

They stood in the darkness of the first room, breathing in slowly. Then Irvine said in a funny voice: "What's blinking?"

Selphie turned. "Oh, the computer. Wait ...?" She ran in to check it - clicked a few buttons. "Oh, crap," she said, and looked up at him sheepishly. "We forgot to report."

Irvine rolled his eyes. "Do we have to do it now?"

Selphie scrolled down on the screen. "Oh, bloody Ifrit," she said under her breath. 

The note from Quistis read:

_Hey you two. We haven't received your report, and it's pretty late. If you get this, send us a notification as soon as possible. If we don't hear from you by midnight we're going to assume something happened to you and initiate the rescue plan. So get your butts back here and send me something._

Selphie wasted no time, her eyes narrowing. She initially sent a response and then checked the time: 11:49? There was a chance that nothing would process by then. And if they had to go to rescue the entire thing would be blown. Mentally berating herself for being so absentminded, she logged into the Balamb system and began searching for a way to deactivate the automatic initiation.

"Fee," Irvine whined from the bedroom. "Do you need my help?"

"Nah." Her concentration was only on the computer, trying to fix her mistake. There - current missions. She double-clicked on her name and read quickly, trying to find _mission status_. "I'll be done here in a second. I have to do something, and then we can report and go to bed."

There? Selphie flew through a couple screens and finally found the urgent command. She double-clicked again, entering her name, SeeD ID and network pass-code. The status of their mission dropped from _unknown_ to _benign._ 11:51.

Selphie sighed and called up the camera files for the living room. She watched as they loaded - one, two, three, four ...five?

_We only have four._ Her heart stopped.

She tried it again. Five. Where was the other feed coming from?

With a little difficulty she traced it. A little ...common-issue vidnet feed ...from under the couch?

Now her heart was pounding.

Hands shaking, she loaded the main camera and scanned through the day. Skipped through breakfast ...the SeeDs coming in ...talking ...leaving for lunch ...back ...wait.

She watched, her eyes wide, as Darik and Astra sat down on the couch. Waited a couple minutes. Then Darik nodded at Astra subtly; the pale girl casually and quickly reached down and tucked something under the couch.

_Shit. Double shit._

"Vin," she called, her voice quaking, "come here?" _Just don't call me Selphie, please..._

He came in and froze. "You're completely white," he said slowly. "What happened?"

"Come look. I think we lost the connection."

He looked at her concerned and she put her finger over her lips firmly. She typed softly and carefully on the screen:

_We have a problem._

Irvine looked at her. "Let me see," he said.

She replayed the video image of Astra sticking the small camera under the couch. Irvine said nothing, but she could see his face paling. His fists clenched.

"What do we do?" he asked her softly.

She typed:

_I don't think they're getting very strong/good video - mostly audio. But we can't really take it down or they'll wonder how we found it._

Irvine bit his lip. Carefully he reached down and pecked out on the keyboard:

_How did we not notice?_

Selphie wouldn't meet his eyes as she typed slowly:

_I think we were kissing._

The world slowly faded for Irvine as he realized what he had done. The distraction had been so powerful that he had literally compromised their security - the security of their mission. Selphie had some first - but she shouldn't have come before her own safety! If only he had been paying attention, he would have noticed, they could have done something. Now they were both in danger - obviously the Galbadians suspected something, else this never would have happened.

He closed his eyes. He could have shot himself right now, literally. Shot himself in the foot. How stupid was he? If this was really the girl he cared about - shouldn't he be trying to protect her as well?

And then a chill ran down his spine.

He recalled Darik's voice: _You should take her out tonight - get her mind off things._

And he himself responded like an idiot: _I think that's what we both need._

Oh, dear Hyne. They were really in trouble now ...


	13. Thirteen: the first answer

  
  


**Chapter Thirteen**

the first answer

  
  
  
  


Selphie rolled over in bed and heard something click.

_Just the wind_, she thought, until her ears focused on the slight shifting sound.

She sat up slowly, an odd feeling forming in the pit of her stomach. The place beside her in the bed was empty.

"Vin?" she whispered to the darkness.

No answer. A sudden silence.

And she was suddenly petrified. Where was Irvine?

Then the shifting began again, a soft slinking sound that could have been footsteps...

Trembling, Selphie lay down again, her eyes wide open in the darkness, focused on the door to the bedroom. Her hands clenched the bed sheets under her pillow in an odd combination of anger and fear. A dark shape appeared slowly, moving silently into the room and looking around, pale eyes landing on Selphie -

"Hah!" The brunette leapt out of bed and threw on the light. "What the hell are you -"

Astra coolly held a gun out before her, pointed straight at Selphie's face. "I'm sorry I woke you up," she said smoothly.

Selphie panicked. She felt Quezacotl moving around in her head, shifting anxiously; however, she had no weapon with which to protect herself. She sat back down on the bed.

How much did Astra know? Was she the spy? What was she doing here? What was so important in their apartment that the SeeD would break and enter in the middle of the night? Selphie's head was spinning. Should she keep playing the game? Or should she just summon Quezacotl on the girl's ass, make a huge disturbance, and get out while she could? Was their cover blown? What was Astra looking for?

And where the hell was Irvine?

Selphie asked shakily, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm not here for me." Astra's pale face was emotionless beneath her pale eyes and odd colorless hair. "This isn't my choice."

Selphie's eyes were darting around the room, trying to remember the layout - the button to release the first cache of weapons was over there - but how could she trip the switch -

Click.

The sound of a gun being cocked.

Selphie whirled around in panic -

To see Irvine standing behind Astra, Exeter cocked and ready, planted in the back of the girl's head. 

"Fancy meeting you here," he said, and it was a snarl. "Drop the gun."

Astra did as she was told, the small black shotgun making a soft thud on their carpet. Her face was still emotionless - no fear, no anger. "I'm not the one you want," she said softly.

"What do you mean?" Irvine asked, his voice still cold. "You're the one standing in my apartment pointing a gun at my girl."

"I'm not who you think I am," Astra replied, still looking unfazed by the situation.

"No shit," Irvine said, fury starting to leak through. "What are you doing here?"

The girl turned around to face him - slowly, her arms raised, hands in the air. "That was my only weapon," she said, looking him blankly in the face. "You could take your gun out of my face."

Irvine's eyes narrowed; he was frustrated beyond belief at her calmness. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Darik sent me," she said casually, as if it were the most sensible answer in the world. 

"I figured as much," Irvine said. "That's why he told me to take Fee out tonight, isn't it? So that you could sneak on in here and duplicate our keys, huh?"

"That's why you weren't in bed," Astra said curiously, her hands still raised and her face still blank. "You figured it out. Which means I was right."

"I," Irvine growled, furious, "am pointing a horribly deadly gun directly into your face. You could show a little more _respect_ at a time like this." The girl blinked. "Stop playing around and tell me what's going on."

Astra slowly lowered her arms. "It's difficult to think," she annunciated clearly, "with a gun in my face. I told you I have no other weapons."

Irvine had no idea what to do.

As soon as he had seen the video he guessed what had happened. Astra had planted the audio feed and picked up their conversation; Darik, after affirming that the apartment would be empty, had sent the girl over. Irvine had put the pieces together quickly; for a few panicked minutes he had thought that perhaps they were waiting _in_ the apartment, but he checked it over to be sure it was empty. He had then put Selphie in bed and nabbed Exeter from its hiding place. And waited in the kitchen.

Sure enough, his instincts were right again. There was the soft sound of a key in the lock; the door had opened and Astra snuck in carefully. She had headed straight for the bedroom, wanting to ensure the couple was safely in bed. Irvine hadn't even realized she was armed until Selphie jumped out of bed; and that was almost too late.

But why had she come back? Obviously she and Darik had made short work of their apartment's security. Why had she risked getting caught?

Slowly, he lowered the Exeter, though he kept his death grip. "Tell me why you're here."

"I told you I'm not the one you want," Astra said stiffly.

Selphie was sitting on the bed, slowly recovering her composure; Irvine came to sit beside her, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders. She sighed and rested her head on him, a little shaken up. 

"I didn't understand the last time you told me," Irvine said, "I'm unlikely to understand now."

"I know what you're after," Astra said. "And it's not me."

"What do you mean?" Irvine asked, unwilling to give away the game.

Astra looked him straight in the face. "Darik sent me," she said. "He only suspects what I have confirmed. We went on your computer."

"And what did you find?" Selphie asked.

"Not much," the girl said, and Selphie smiled a little triumphant smile. "But I didn't need much. Darik suspects you," Astra continued briefly.

Irvine shook his head. Maybe it was the late hour - but this conversation made no sense. "What's going on?" he asked the air.

"You found my camera," Astra said shortly. "I figured that out. Darik sent me back to get it."

"You came all the way back here to get the camera?" Selphie asked. "Couldn't it have waited? Why risk getting caught?"

"Darik told me to," the girl replied.

Irvine blinked. "Why do you - why do _you_ work for _him?_"

Astra paused. "Because - he is a leader," she said finally. "He is someone to follow. We are partners - we work together." She looked at each of them in turn. "You should understand."

Selphie paused; but she did understand. She remembered Seifer's "posse" and Fujin and Raijin's undeniable loyalty to their friend. She figured that Astra's relationship was much like that with the arrogant and overbearing Darik. Poor Astra looked like she needed someone to follow.

"Why should we understand?" Irvine asked slowly, and Astra actually laughed.

"Because you're the same as us," she said succinctly. "I've figured it out. But I haven't told - I'm not your enemy."

Irvine glanced down at the gun. "Could have fooled me."

"Trust me," Astra said, a strange strength in her voice. "I don't wish you harm."

"But you would have shot," Selphie asked, "if you had to?"

"For defense," the pale-haired girl said. "Defense only. You had nothing to harm me with - so I paused."

Irvine sighed. "I'm going to send you home now, aren't I," he said to no one.

Astra stood up, picked up her gun, and tucked it away in her hidden pocket. "I should return before Darik begins to suspect things," she said.

The girl's bizarre behavior made no sense. Whose side was she on?

Irvine stood up. "I don't know what to do with you, Astra. I still don't understand a whole lot of the things you said tonight."

The pale-haired girl looked up at him, her face entirely serious. "You need to watch Darik and..." She paused. "Make sure you protect yourself. He is a good person, but his intentions aren't always ...the best."

"And yet you'll still stick by him," Selphie said quietly.

Astra nodded. "We are teammates. I have to watch his back as he watches mine. He is the commander."

Irvine shrugged, disgusted. "Go home, Astra."

"I'm not going to tell anyone," the girl said as a farewell, and left, closing the door behind her as quietly as she had entered.

There was a pause, and then Selphie said: "Well, she's an odd one."

Irvine turned around. "Did you understand a single one of her sentences?" he asked, collapsing on the bed - "Ouch." He moved Exeter's solid length and curled up.

Selphie picked up the gun and turned it over, admiring its smooth sides. "Were you up all night?" she asked softly.

Irvine nodded. "After I remembered Darik saying what he did - I was sure they were going to do something. And - I didn't want to risk our safety again." He shook his head, chestnut hair falling into his face. "But I have no idea what just happened."

"I bet Astra's having a good laugh," Selphie said bitterly. "She comes in here, waves a gun around, spouts some cryptic sentences, and then leaves."

"Whose side is she on?" Irvine said. "I mean - there seem to be sides now, us versus them. But - I'm confused."

Selphie shook her head. "We can't do this mission," she moaned softly. "I don't know what I'm doing. Irvine, I'm scared."

"We can do it." He sat up and put his arm around her. "Don't be scared. I'll protect you - not that you need it, Seff. Silly girl. You're tough as nails."

She snuggled into his warmth and safety and Irvine was more than content to just hold her. "I'll never be able to sleep," she said eventually. "You can go to bed if you want."

"No way," Irvine said. "Let's just sit here a while and think things over."

And so they did.

Irvine pondered what Astra had said again. She claimed to have figured things out - did that mean she knew they were SeeD? Or just that she knew they were more than they claimed? Or that she was bluffing?

And Darik? Was _he_ the bad guy? Was that what Astra was trying to tell them - without actually _telling_ and being disloyal?

He shifted his weight, leaning back into the pillows. Maybe he could understand it better with his eyes closed?

No, it didn't make any more sense. But at least it felt better.

Selphie sat, lost in her own thoughts. Astra had been so cruel and emotionless - and yet she couldn't shake the feeling that the girl was on their side somehow. It reminded Selphie of watching Fujin and Raijin with Seifer, honestly; the two lesser members of the posse always wanted the best for their leader, even when it went against his 'wishes'. 

She couldn't shake the horrible feeling of having the gun in her face and feeling helpless. She felt her GFs stir in her mind, protesting. _That's not it,_ she said reassuringly, touched by their concern (though much of it was due to the fact that their existence was linked to hers); _I have to be able to defend myself._ Luckily Irvine had been prepared to protect her. She could have done it herself; but he had been so insistent that she go to bed ...

She glanced over at him. Irvine had fallen asleep, collapsed on the pillows, his mouth slightly open. His bangs were falling into his face, his long ponytail spilling onto the gray shirt he had worn last night. He looked so peaceful lying there that Selphie had to stifle a giggle.

Silly Irvine. She gently reached over and brushed a strand of hair away from his mouth. He had been so fiercely upset earlier - and here he was, sleeping like a baby. He had so many sides - a sweetheart one moment, a deadly assassin the next.

Selphie gently stood up and arranged the covers around him. He rolled over slightly, but didn't wake up. Summoning her courage, Selphie gave him a brief kiss on the forehead - she wouldn't have dared otherwise. 

"It's my turn to protect you," she whispered.

Tiptoeing out of the bedroom, she shut the door softly behind her. The sun was coming up, faint light coming through the windows. Selphie headed to the computer room to tap out her thoughts without keeping Irvine awake.

There was a brief message from Quistis: _Glad to see you're alright - Selphie, you dumb hacker, you could have just waited for the transmit._ She smiled at the screen. Good old Quistis. _You guys hurry up and come home. I'm going out on mission in a couple days and Zell is gonna be pissed if he has to teach everyone's classes. _

Quistis - off on mission? Selphie pondered this for a little while and then shrugged. She could do whatever she liked, and she wouldn't let them send her off somewhere she didn't want to be. Quistis was no one to bully around; you could try, but you usually ended up kissing the pavement.

Selphie tapped into her Internet diary, checking the updates and comments. The online system had been a hit at Balamb; nearly half of the students had signed up for their own. For a small fee - one most SeeDs could afford - they could get a little space on Selphie's server and host their own online journal. Hers was still the most popular; Selphie was just amazed that her idea had been such a hit. 

The sun was almost the whole way up; she had been reading online for quite some time, poring through entries from some of her students. She was engrossed in the way they spoke of Balamb, the Headmaster, the Commander, and some of their Instructors; she had never quite seen Garden in this light, and realized that this was a valuable resource for Garden.

She stood up and stretched and headed into the kitchen to make coffee.

There was a knock at the door.

Without even thinking, Selphie opened it.

She was hit in the stomach by something _hard_ and thrown backward. The door was thrown open and slammed into the wall; Selphie tried to collect herself from the floor, Quezacotl raging in her mind, demanding to be let loose - but something heavy pressed against her chest, keeping her from moving.

Darik loomed above her, a large and particularly evil-looking staff pressing into her chest directly beneath her throat - so hard that she was having difficulty breathing. A twisted smile spread over his face as he peered down at her. "Well, hello, Fiona," he said, his voice low. "Fancy meeting you here."

And then Vanesa peered her head around him, a deadly crossbow in her hands. The redhead was ready, poised for action, a horribly evil look spreading over her face. "Good," she said briefly, looking down at Selphie, held captive by the weight of Darik's staff. "Where's the other one?"

_Vanesa?_

Selphie gulped; she struggled against the staff, trying to dislodge it from her upper chest. Quezacotl and Carbuncle were both screaming rage in her mind as she panicked; but Darik, literally, had the upper hand. Selphie was furious in her fear - she had been caught totally off guard, and she had to protect - 

_Irvine._

She felt a surge of determination sizzle through her like thunder - whether it was hers of Quezacotl's she could never know, for the thunder bird chose that moment to rearrange her junctioning. Selphie felt strength flow through her muscles - unexplainable strength - and in one mighty channeling of all her power she gripped the staff with both white-knuckled hands and pushed, _hard_, flinging the staff away from her. Darik stumbled backwards and Selphie rolled to one side, leaping to her feet.

"Oof!' Darik hit the wall behind him with a thud. Vanesa whirled around, shock obvious on her face, her crossbow trained on Selphie. 

"What the hell?" the red-head snapped violently. She took three furious steps and faced Selphie; the brunette was standing, her hands in defense position like Zell had taught her, the energy of her GFs brimming along her blood.

Then Vanesa closed her eyes. "What the hell are you?" she asked - and Selphie felt the horrible pain of a foreign person clawing among her mind. Vanesa was attempting to Draw from her! Selphie took two panicked steps backwards and ran into the kitchen counter - _shit, trapped._ She was trying not to wail in anguish - it was never pleasant to be on the targeted end of the Draw command. Not that she was afraid of the red-head stealing either GF; but her head was aching, she was slowly losing her vision...

"No way!" Vanesa hissed; Selphie felt a cold hand painfully clench itself around Quezacotl. A brief image invaded all her senses: the awesome thunder creature lashing out in defense, its razor-sharp claws lashing out - and then she came to, cowering on the floor, whimpering, head clasped in her hands.

_This won't do._ Selphie shakily got to her feet over the din of Quezacotl screaming a challenge in her mind. Vanesa had turned to Darik.

"She has a GF," the red-head snapped. "Two of 'em. I can't get them out, either - they're so compatible I think they've Bonded." Vanesa turned back to Selphie, baring her teeth. "Where did you get those GFs? Where are you from?"

"Look," Darik said, shoving Vanesa out of the way. Selphie dodged the first stroke of the staff, but she was out of maneuvering space, and she had no other advantage to use against Darik . The staff caught her directly in the stomach and knocked the wind out of her completely. Coughing and hacking, Selphie collapsed to the ground, only to find the staff three inches from her face.

All she needed was a second to concentrate, and she could call up Quezacotl and end this. But it didn't look like she'd have that second any time soon.

"Look, bitch," Darik growled. "You guys are here to frame us, aren't you? You're playing us for fools. And there's no way we're fools."

Selphie was wheezing, trying to catch her breath. She was dizzy and in pain, but she managed to gasp: "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Shut up, bitch!" Darik prodded her with the staff; its heavy end returned to hover inches from the bridge of her nose. "Tell us what's going on, or I'll bash your ugly head in."

"That's no way to talk to a lady," a low voice said. "Especially mine."

Irvine, unnoticed in the bedroom doorway, took careful aim at the staff in Darik's hands and pulled the trigger. The shot echoed through the tiny apartment; the staff twisted out of Darik's hands with a snap and clattered to the ground. Darik drew his hands to his chest in pain; they had been caught in the recoil of the shot. Vanesa's eyes narrowed; she leveled her crossbow at Irvine.

And Selphie leapt to her feet and finally unleashed Quezacotl.

The brunette threw her hands wide, letting the bird completely take over; she felt her body fade as Quezacotl took physical form. She was inside the great thunder bird, spreading her wings high as thunder and lightning rained down upon her enemies - for once, Selphie in Quezacotl's mind, not the other way around. All of the rage and anger and power they had been saving up were released in one massive burst of energy that dropped Darik and Vanesa to their knees.

Quezacotl withdrew, and Selphie felt her body re-materialize. Both SeeDs were incapacitated, crouched on the floor in pain; she glanced at Irvine, who grinned as he tossed her nunchaku over. She grinned back and advanced on the two SeeDs on the floor, weapon at the ready, knowing Irvine was watching her back.

Vanesa coughed, looked up. "Who the hell are you?" she croaked.

"We're the Balamb Team," Selphie said with pride, and cast Stop.

Darik and Vanesa were frozen in place on the floor, their bodies stopped in place by the magic. Selphie looked at them critically - and then sighed, the first of the tension and adrenaline fading from her body. She felt a warm hand on the small of her back, and looked up at Irvine. His eyes were full of concern.

"Good job," he said. "Are you alright?"

Selphie winced. "I'll be sore," she admitted. "But I'm fine for now."

"Poor girl." He rubbed her back. "I'm sorry I wasn't there sooner."

Selphie then looked down at Vanesa and Darik. "Alright, you two," she said. "Time to talk."


	14. Fourteen: the second answer

  
  


Chapter Fourteen

the second answer

  
  
  
  


"Tilmitt, good to hear from you."

Selphie smiled at the computer. "Hello, Headmaster."

"I hear the issue at hand has been resolved?"

Resolved.

Selphie thought back to the severe questioning, the hurried call to Xu, the countless Stop and Sleep spells to hold the rebels at bay. Her eyes briefly glanced around the apartment; the walls and furniture were all slightly charred from Quezacotl's overzealous display.

"Resolved, sir."

"Ahh." She heard Cid shift over the line and then cough slightly. "What was the situation?"

Selphie bit her lip. Darik and Vanesa had confessed to being part of a small group of saboteurs which was part of a larger group - about which, surprisingly, neither of them had any information. Apparently the shadows behind their orders were out to ruin Garden's authority on the Sorceress issue. Vanesa had obtained Garden access codes - she deigned to elaborate on how she had obtained them - and she and Darik had wreaked internal havoc on Garden files and missives in general. It was clear that Vanesa's innate hatred of Galbadia had been morphed into a hatred of Garden in general. Selphie could still hear the girl's bitter voice: _ I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure Trabia becomes what it should_. Unfortunately Vanesa's only plan had been to turn Garden over to someone who wanted to abuse its resources. Darik had been caught by the offer of power and control - ruin Garden's image, receive a place in the new institution as a reward.

These two had been so totally manipulated. Whatever force out there was pushing to ruin Garden's prestige and reputation picked its targets well. Were they aiming to eliminate Garden and then replace it? Did they want to destroy Garden completely? And how did the Sorceress come into play?

Selphie pulled herself back into reality. "The two SeeDs we caught were working for an underground organization out to topple Garden and its reputation," she replied. "Motives unknown."

Cid sighed loudly. "I was hoping we'd solved the problems," he said, his voice tinny. "What has happened to the, er, perpetrators?"

"Xu has custody."

"And your tapes?"

Selphie smiled. "All audio and video data will be included in our formal report," she said.

"And Kinneas?"

Selphie paused. Irvine was lying on his back on the bed in their former bedroom. He'd been staring at the ceiling for the past twenty minutes or so, claiming to be having an important conversation with Cerberus. He'd looked like he had a lot on his mind, so Selphie had left him alone.

"We're all fine, Headmaster."

"Good, Tilmitt. Thanks for responding. Over and out."

Selphie closed the little transmit window and began loading up their video files; one by one she labeled them and transferred them to portable disks. One disk for each day. Audio files in their own folder for backup. Labeling each like a good little SeeD. 

She couldn't get over the feeling that her whole world had been shaken. Here were two people whose devotion to Garden had been twisted into a fiery hatred. Vanesa had been driven to "help" Trabia, she had confessed - help complete its demise, apparently. Help turn the Garden from a lovely place of learning into a pile of rubble, both literally and figuratively. Poor Trabia. And Galbadia had been treated similarly; Darik had shown no signs of remorse. If Gardens had feelings, Selphie was convinced that they'd feel betrayed.

And the betrayal had been complete, all ways around. Dall hadn't been too pleased with the two revelations he had received: first that Vanesa was a traitor and saboteur, and second that her affair with Darik hadn't - quite - ended. Astra had taken the news as if she had known all along (which may have been the truth) and had turned her back on Darik. It was another prime example of the emotion and intensity involved in everything that Garden did.

Selphie felt like she was seeing her future a little clearer now. Yes, she wanted to be an Instructor - but not yet. She had a couple loose ends to tie up first. And one of them involved her former Garden. She didn't really care what Balamb Garden thought of it, either; if she could score a proper mission to Trabia, all for the better. But if not she would just take her leave early and head on up; she should receive about a week from this mission. A week would have to be enough. Balamb Garden - she wasn't worried about Balamb.

The part of Balamb she was most concerned about - well, it was in the bedroom right now, staring at the ceiling and conversing with its GF.

Selphie clamped down on her feelings for Irvine and focused her attention on the computer screen. The mission was over, right? They'd have to go back to separate dorms and separate lives, right? Things could be the same there as they were here, right?

Then why did she feel almost - sad?

The mission had brought them together in a way that had never happened before - a way that Selphie liked. Sure, most of it had been play-acting, she suspected. But just as she didn't want to lose the closeness that had developed between them before the mission, she didn't want to lose the fun, fancy closeness they had now. Their relationship was evolving - and Selphie didn't want it to go back.

And returning to Balamb would present Irvine with an opportunity to back out of anything.

_Oh, stop it,_ Selphie told herself. _It's not like he's bound to you by anything._

_Oh, really,_ her inner voice replied. _You know what he's been acting like. You like it. He likes it. What's the problem?_

_Shut up!_ Selphie shook her head. _I can't get my hopes up. Whatever happens, happens._

_You have to tell him,_ the voice insisted. _Let him know. Don't give up on this._

_But he's my friend,_ Selphie argued. _Friendship comes first. And if he was just acting - I'm not going to hold him to anything. I'm not going to assume anything._ She sighed and thought resolutely: _I'm not going to be clingy. I'm not going to dream._

The voice snickered.

Selphie told the voice to go to hell and went back to work on the video files.

  
  


Irvine continued to stare at the ceiling.

He had been doing so for a good half-hour now, determinedlyavoiding a couple very dangerous thoughts. Cerberus was basically doing flips inside his mind, trying to get him to smile. But the ceiling wasn't amusing; it was blank, devoid of interest. Slightly charred, but otherwise devoid of anything.

_We're meant to be together._

Was it fate? Fate was having a good hard laugh at them right now. The mission had made them cling to one another; but now that it was over, they had leapt apart frantically, as if someone had flipped on the lights and they had realized what had happened. Closeness was dangerous.

And yet addicting.

Irvine knew that very, very often people who found themselves in close quarters also found themselves becoming emotionally attached. It was the tried-and-true story of business partners falling in love or lust and having a wild and passionate affair and then falling apart. And Selphie had shied away from him ever since - as if he were a match, and she was suddenly fearful of being burned.

He wondered if it had just been the romantics of the situation - he and Selphie, alone together. The pressure. Was that all?

His GFs were getting anxious in his mind; Cerberus, especially, always fretted when Irvine fretted. He tried to calm them down. 

Why did it feel like this was the end?

There was a soft shuffle at the door; Selphie knocked on the doorframe gently. "You like that ceiling, apparently."

Irvine smiled without turning his head. "I've noticed it's covered with ash. What do you think that's from?"

"Quezacotl says that you can bite me. Er, him ...it...uh..."

"Well, c'mere then, and I'll bite you," Irvine growled, baring his teeth. Selphie giggled.

And then she was struck by a sudden flashback: _Irvy, giggling, trying to ward her off as she lunged at him, baring her teeth furiously. He swatted at her as she growled like a little animal._

_"Don't bite meee!" Young Irvy could barely push her away, he was laughing so hard._

_Young Sefie paused in thought, and then launched herself at the young boy, knocking him to the ground. Triumphantly she began to chew on his straggled ponytail, laughing herself._

Selphie blinked. The memory threw her off-track; all the details of the mission were wiped from her mind as she sat down on the bed, smiling a bemused smile.

"What?" Irvine asked, sitting up and grinning at her. "You look like you just had an awesome daydream."

"Maybe," she replied absentmindedly.

"Well, you tell me who the handsome guy is, and I'll beat him up," Irvine teased. 

Selphie stuck her tongue out. "It's you, of course," she teased back, and then corrected: "You at four years old, that is."

Irvine winced, as if disgusted. "You like four-year-olds?"

Selphie gave a dreamy sigh; "But you were so _cute_ then," she protested.

"What'd you remember?" he asked her, genuinely interested.

"Biting you," she said. "As a child."

"Hmph." Irvine crossed his arms. "It couldn't have been anything better than that, huh?"

A gentle - only slightly awkward - silence settled between them.

"Irvine," Selphie said suddenly. "What's..."

"Yeah?"

She swallowed. "What's your first memory of ...uh ...of me?"

Irvine shook his head, smiling slightly. _I knew she'd ask eventually. Just swallow it and tell her._

"What's wrong?" Her voice was full of concern.

_You don't know what you're asking, Seff._

He shrugged. "Here, let's pack up. I'll tell you the entire story of the day I showed up at the orphanage."

Selphie's eyes lit up. "You remember that?"

"Get packing, missy." Irvine knew that the distraction would make the story a little bit easier.

_Oh, come on,_ an inner voice prompted him. _You've wanted to tell this story for weeks. You were waiting for her to ask._

_So like ...awkwardness, here I come._

"After I was brought to Matron's," Irvine began, concentrating on putting clothing in a suitcase, "she sent me inside to meet the children while she worked out details with the people who had found me. You were all playing outside on the beach. Mind you, I was still pretty upset about what had happened."

All of Selphie's attention was on him; Irvine tried to ignore it as he piled up his shirts. "You were all playing war - your favorite game. I didn't feel much like playing, so I sat down to watch. You guys all stared at me for a while."

  
  


_"Look at the new kid," Seifer announced loudly._

_"I know, Seifow," Zell whined. "We all see him."_

_"Squall, let's go say hi," Quistis said, grabbing his arm. "Be nice."_

_"What-evow." Squall stayed put, digging his heels into the sand._

  
  


Irvine paused. "And then, out of nowhere, this little whirlwind showed up."

  
  


_"Hi thewe my name is Seffie I'm three yeaws owd and we's all pwayin' a game you should pway too. Yooo're new here but yoooo'll like it Matwon's weally nice now come on let's pway! It's wally easy to pway we just run up the beach there's a cave somewhere and if yoooos weally nice I show yoo now come on what's your name?"_

  
  


He chuckled. "I had no idea what to do with you."

  
  


_The new kid scuffed his toes in the sand. "My name's Ir-vine."_

_"Oooooh, Irvy!" The green-eyed imp grabbed his hand. "Irvy is on my team now look that's Sqwall and that's Zell and that is Seifow he's mean and this is Quisty and inside is Sis and she's the nicest pewson ever now look!" The imp yelled loudly, making everyone stop. "Irvy is my new friend so he's on my team. So THERE!"_

  
  


"And you just grabbed me and we took off up the beach. We hid behind something - rocks, maybe? - and you were chattering up a storm." He paused and carefully folded a pair of pants. "But I had to let you know - I was still so upset, and I wanted you all to know that I was ...different, or so I thought."

  
  


___The green eyes blinked. "Irvy? Why are yoo sad?"_

_"Sefie..." The new kid paused. "That lady says my family's lost. I lost my family."_

_The imp, to his surprise, giggled. "My family's wost too," she said softly. "Evewybody's family is lost. My mom and dad got wost."_

_He sniffled. "What if I can't find them?"_

_"Matwon says that sometimes yoo can find wost things and sometimes yoo can't," Sefie said with an air of authority. _

_"But..." Irvy pouted. "But I want my family."_

_"We can look for them together," Sefie said decisively. "And untiw we find them I will be your famwy and you can be mine, okay?"_

__

Selphie was suddenly perfectly still. Irvine swallowed; focused on tucking things in his duffel bag. "And for some unknown reason - that cheered me up."

  
  


_"Here, Irvy," Sefie said. "We need to make yoo happy. Momma and Matwon both say not to think about the sad things when there is so many happy things. So wet's just pway the game and you and me will find your famwy later, okay?"_

  
  


Irvine remembered those words - such wisdom from a tiny child. And Sefie had said those words often. Then when they were parted Irvine had taken them to heart as a philosophy, a way to run his life. 

"Why be sad when there's a way to be happy?" Irvine realized he was speaking out loud. "It was you that said that, Seff."

Selphie was lost in her own thoughts. "Thank you," she said softly, and turned to begin packing her own bags.

They gathered their things into bags in silence. The apartment slowly emptied; the computer and video cameras remained for Xu to examine later. Selphie turned to give it one last look and a sad wave as they left.

_Why do I feel like I'm leaving something behind?_ Selphie sighed. Much of her heart was in this apartment. Too much.

Irvine squeezed her shoulder, trying to lighten the mood. "Come on, Seff. Let's catch the first train out of here. Back to Balamb!"

She gave a half-hearted smile. "Let's head home!" Although Balamb was home to neither of them. _Dammit._

They headed down to the station; Irvine bought two tickets, this time in the SeeD car. But neither of them was very talkative; Selphie watched out the window while Irvine paged through a magazine.

_We're meant to be together._

He shook his head.

_I'll be your family and you can be mine._ The child's voice, echoing in his head. The best promise anyone had ever made him. Forgotten.

Irvine awoke to Selphie's touch and slight giggle. "Hey, sleepyhead," she said. "We're there. Wake up!"

He sat up groggily. "I didn't realize I had fallen asleep," he said, repositioning his cowboy hat.

"We're back already," Selphie offered. "Now get up, lazy!"

"Okay, okay," he groaned good-naturedly, grabbing the bags.

They trudged into Balamb; the familiar sight of the Garden was welcome to their tired eyes. Irvine saluted a couple cadets; Selphie waved to two of her old students. They parted at the dormitories - "Let's meet back in fifteen to make our formal report," Irvine offered, and Selphie agreed.

But as she trudged up the stairs into her room, she realized there was something left for her to say. She wanted to ask Headmaster Cid if she could return to Trabia. And she wanted to ask Irvine to go with her. She'd have to ask before - make sure she avoided putting him on the spot, gave him every chance to get out of the promise he had made that one wonderful night.

_Why be sad when there's a way to be happy?_

She slid her ID card through the slot and entered quietly; no sign of Quistis. She sighed, relieved. She didn't want to face her roommate right now; there was much too much going on in her mind. Something was coming to a culmination - something she wasn't sure she could avoid any longer.

Selphie dropped her bags on her bed and then, determined to do something she wasn't quite sure she could define, headed to Irvine's room.

The slight knock on the door alerted him; Irvine had dumped his bags in a similar fashion and was debating whether to go through his voice messages or just ignore them. "Come on in," he called.

Selphie opened the door and then closed it, awkwardly.

She looked nervous, Irvine realized. "Seff? What's up?"

"Irvine, I..." Her courage was failing her. What had Irvine said? Courage in the past?

He looked at her, puzzled. "What's got you all rattled?" he drawled kindly.

_Everything._

Selphie took a deep breath. "Irvine, I think I'm going to ask the Headmaster to go back to - back to Trabia for a little bit," she said hastily.

Irvine nodded, still a little confused. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea, Seff," he said.

She bit her lip, shifted her feet, and then raised her eyes to his. "Were you serious about coming with me?"

Irvine burst out laughing. "Is that all that this is about?" He walked over to her and grinned, chucking her on the chin. "Of course I'll come with you. I wouldn't let you go alone - that's no way to treat a lady."

Selphie was both relieved and terrified. Irvine had agreed so readily that half the things she had been planning to say caught in her throat. She was wildly tempted to take his acceptance as it was - but then she'd never get another chance.

He was still looking at her, relief mingled with concern in those deep eyes of his. Hesitantly he asked: "Is that all?"

She stalled. "I'm just glad you'll come with me," she began - but how else could she phrase this? She didn't want him coming for a promise, she didn't want him coming to be a big brother - she wanted _Irvine._

Selphie summoned up all the courage she could find - her courage, the courage from her past, Quezacotl's courage, and probably some of Irvine's courage as well - and said strongly, "But I love you."

There was a pause as long as a lifetime.

And then Irvine laughed.

Selphie wasn't expecting that reaction.

He looked down at her, happiness written all over his face. "Are you serious?"

Selphie was completely taken aback. "What do you mean?"

He gathered her in close, cautiously, with a hesitance that Selphie had never seen in the cowboy. "Selphie Tilmitt, I've been waiting for you to say those words my whole damn life."

Now Selphie was terribly confused. "Irvine, I - um - what?"

He laughed again. "I'm not very good at this, am I?" he murmured, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. "Some ladies' man I make. What I meant to say was this."

He blinked and looked her straight in the eyes. "I love _you_," he answered.

Then, as her eyes widened in shock, he grinned and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Now c'mon, we have to get that report in." He took her hand gently, ushering her out the door. "Let's go tell Cid that we're going to Trabia on break and there ain't nothin' he can do to stop us."

Selphie stammered - "But - But..."

"But what?" Irvine gave her a heart-melting smile. "We're kids in love. Why be sad when there's a way to be happy?"

Selphie stopped and thought, and then gave him a huge grin and threw her arms around his neck. The details could wait; for now, she just kissed him.


	15. Fifteen: reality?

_i know my pace has slowed down considerably. i'm in the middle of finals week, and i've been working my butt into the ground. i apologize. the story's kind of at a slow, cutesy point as well, which doesn't help. i'll keep writing, but don't expect frantic updates until my finals are done.  
anyway: on to the story!_   
  


Chapter Fifteen

reality?

  
  
  
  


"...and that's about all, Sir."

Selphie clicked her heels together and gave a salute. Headmaster Cid stood up to acknowledge it, then began pacing slowly around the office.

He turned to the two of them, standing side by side proudly, and smiled. "Selphie, Irvine," he began. "Good job. I'm very proud of you and what you've done."

He looked down at the composite report and the envelope stuffed with vid-disks. "This is a lot of work for two young SeeDs like yourself; the mission was complicated and dangerous, and you performed to the best of your ability with minor losses."

"Losses?" Irvine drawled. "What losses?"

Cid cleared his throat. "Um, minor repairs had to be done on your apartment. Someone was a little too ...emphatic with a lightning spell."

Selphie giggled.

"But I digress." Cid tabbed the folder absentmindedly as Irvine thought kindly: _You're always digressing, old man._

"Yes." He turned to the two. "You know you've been granted the customary week of leave; I wanted to know if there was anything else I could do for you as a gesture of our thanks."

Selphie shrugged, embarrassed. "It was just a mission, headmaster," she reminded him gently.

Cid smiled at her. "Yes, I know. But you two are special to me, you know, me and Edea. And I know it was a rushed mission; I took both of you out of your classes, and I was wondering if there was anything I could do to repay you, perhaps."

Selphie shook her head, but Irvine gently put his hand on the small of her back and said, "There might be."

Cid looked up, interested.

The cowboy said firmly, "Selphie and I are interested in going to visit Trabia for our week; could you make travel arrangements for us on the train?"

"Better than that, son," Cid said with a smile. "The Ragnarok's yours."

"Woo-hoo!" Selphie exclaimed, and then clapped her hands over her mouth with a silly smile.

Cid looked at her, chuckling. "A visit home, dear?"

Selphie smiled. "I want to make sure that they're doing well with the repairs and all," she said. "I haven't been back as much as I should, and I want to help."

Cid tapped his chin in absent thought. "We at Balamb haven't been as attentive as we could have, either," he said slowly. "I've been thinking about sending some aid, but I've been so caught up with paperwork," he grumbled cheerfully. 

"Maybe we can help," Irvine offered cautiously, an idea forming in his mind.

Selphie looked at him quizzically and he prompted: "So like, we could have a fundraiser here at Balamb for Trabia Garden!"

Selphie's eyes lit up as she understood. "My festival!"

Cid looked from one to the other and noticed a dynamic he had never seen before. Selphie and Irvine had grown closer during their travels, apparently. He chuckled to himself; the two had been inseparable as children. What a better way to grow up than to be at each other's sides once again?

Ah, but he was digressing.

"A fundraiser, eh?" Cid tapped his chain again, thinking. "You know your Festival was pushed back two weeks - security issues."

Selphie pouted momentarily and then thought through it. "No," she said, her eyes twinkling, "that's perfect! Two more weeks to gain publicity - we'll get sponsors - I'll make a committee to help - and when we go to Trabia I'll look around and see exactly what they need." She turned to Irvine, grinning, and grabbed his hand. "This is gonna be awesome!"

Irvine smiled back at her.

Cid cleared his throat. The two looked away from each other, each blushing slightly.

The Headmaster waved his hand at the door. "Get out of here," he said casually. "Go see your friends. And I don't want to see either of you working for another week, you hear?"

"Yes, Headmaster," they replied in unison, making both of them giggle as they escaped Cid's office.

Cid sighed as he watched the energy of youth leave his office. Oh, yes, he remembered Sefie and Irvy - the inseparable dynamic duo of the orphanage. The energetic brown-haired pixie and her sidekick, the playful cowboy - they had always been up to something. Usually something mischievous. They had played together, cried together, and occasionally slept together when there was a fearsome thunderstorm. Edea had been forced to pry them apart the day Selphie was adopted.

Cid chuckled. Who would have guessed that they would grow up into such wonderful people? Selphie's energetic demeanor and selfless nature shone through; she had poured all of her animation and vivacity into helping Garden and her friends - although she had a flair for explosions and fast vehicles. And Irvine Kinneas - no less the cowboy, but much more sincere and heartfelt than anyone could have imagined. The flirtatious gunner had become a loyal and wise companion with the ability to find the good in any situation. Life hadn't been kind to any of them - but all the children he had watched over had turned their hardships into triumphs.

His Sefie and Irvy had finally found each other. Cid couldn't wait to see what the two of them could accomplish together - he was sure, no matter what, that they were in for quite a ride.

But he was digressing again. Cid looked down at the stacks of paper on his desk and wistfully longed for the days in the past with his Edea and a stone house full of children.

  
  
  
  


"I can't believe it," Selphie said excitedly as they headed for the Cafeteria. "The Festival will make the _best_ fundraiser! We can get donations from all kinds of people! Oh, Vin, you have the best ideas."

Irvine squeezed her hand - yes, he still had it. "Anything for my girl," he said, his eyes twinkling.

"We're gonna have so much fun!" Selphie was almost squealing. "We're going hoo-ooome to Traa-aaabia," she sang, swinging Irvine's hand.

Irvine laughed at her as they entered the Caf. Selphie's silly song turned a couple heads, and more than a few students blinked to see their old Instructor hand-in-hand with the Garden's certified ladies' man. Then Selphie spotted Zell - "Heee-eeeey Zellll!!!" - and ran over, leaving Irvine to follow, chuckling.

Selphie threw her arms around Zell and then threw herself into the chair beside him; Irvine playfully punched his shoulder. "What's up, man?"

Zell looked from one to the next. "OHHH YEEEEAH!" he yelled, grinning. "You guys are back!"

"Awww, you missed us!" Selphie exclaimed cheerfully.

Irvine chuckled as he relaxed into another chair. "I know we're the life of the party, but damn, man."

"Dude, look at this!" Zell gestured to a stack of paper in front of him. "Tests. All of them. I've been going nuts! At last you guys are back. I _hate_ taking care of six million students!"

"Uh, Zell?" Selphie said cautiously. "We're not back for good yet. We've got another week off."

Zell's shoulders slumped in typical fashion. "Maaa-aaaan," he groaned. "I can't take this much longer." He sighed. "First you, then Quistis. What's next - Squall leaves too?"

"It's just a week," Selphie said, trying to comfort her friend. "Then hopefully I'll be back for good."

"Hopefully?" Zell lamented. "Be more confident about it, Seff. You're a bummer."

Selphie stuck out her tongue. "I am_ not_ a bummer," she informed Zell. "I am a wonderful person."

Zell looked up at Irvine. "What ideas have you been putting in her head?" he asked.

Irvine burst out laughing.

"Hey, Irvine," a familiar voice asked, "would you mind moving your feet off that chair?"

Selphie looked up, her eyes bright. "Hey, Squall! And Rinoa! Hi guys!"

Squall sat down in the newly vacated chair; Rinoa pulled another chair up beside him and took his arm, grinning. "How was the mission?" she asked, genuine concern in her eyes.

"It was fine," Irvine said, just as Selphie began: "Well, we were in this apartment, and..."

They looked at each other, paused, and then burst out laughing. "Seff wants to give you details," Irvine warned. "You'll be a while."

"Hey!" She playfully punched his arm. He took off his hat and swatted at her; she nimbly grabbed it and tucked it onto her head with a winning smile. Irvine reached under the table and squeezed her knee, _hard._ She squealed, doffed _him_ with the hat, and then gathered her composure.

This nearly innocent display of affection went completely unnoticed by all their friends.

Selphie began to tell the story; Irvine simply leaned back, his arm resting on the back of her chair - not really around her shoulders, since Selphie was on the edge of her seat informing their friends about their travels. He looked at her, wearing his precious hat, with what could only be considered pride. Selphie Tilmitt - the most beautiful creature in the world - and she was finally, if somewhat ambiguously, his.

"And out of nowhere, bam! Irvine's standing behind her with a gun to her head!"

Irvine tuned in slightly at the sound of his name; Selphie was obviously retelling the story of Astra's sneak attack. Rinoa and Zell were listening intently, riveted on her story. Squall was looking elsewhere, apparently bored; but Irvine noticed the small glint in his eyes. 

_This would be perfect,_ Irvine thought, relaxing back into his thoughts. _If only Quistis were here, we'd be like a family again. Some odd and disjointed family ...but a family nonetheless._

He looked around, curious. Squall, the serious one, stone-faced and determined. Selphie, bursting with wild energy and happy-go-lucky style. Zell, hot-headed, impetuous, and irrationally loyal. And Rinoa - honest but sweet, outgoing and straightforward yet angelic. They were quite an odd bunch. 

"...so then Irvine shoots the rod out of his hands! It was incredible!"

His name, again, drew him back to reality. Irvine realized that, finally, he was part of the story - no longer an outsider, looking in. This time, Irvine Kinneas was an integral part of what had happened - he didn't have to wait on the outside. It was his tale too.

"Nah, but Seff," he drawled, interrupting her story, "it was you calling Quezacotl that was the incredible part."

Selphie blushed bright red. "I didn't - mean to - well -" she stammered.

"Didn't mean to what?" Rinoa leaned forward, curious. 

Irvine gave a narrow smile. "Sefie here nearly burnt down the apartment. You should see it - ashes everywhere. The walls are scorched, man. Xu said it would take a week to repair everything."

"I did not." Selphie crossed her arms, sulking. "I didn't mean to electrocute everything."

Zell laughed wildly. "Dude, you fried an apartment? That's awesome!"

Selphie elbowed Irvine in the gut. "Quezacotl says you're a jerk," she said affectionately.

"I'm sure he does." Irvine reached out and tipped the hat down over her eyes. She stayed hidden behind it, pretending to pout.

"Oh, come on." He leaned forward, lifted the hat, and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. "I didn't mean it. It was quite an impressive display of your boosting abilities, darlin'."

This time, everyone at the table noticed. Selphie blushed.

"So anyway." Selphie returned to her tale, her voice a little high. "We caught them and turned them in. They're in Xu's custody now. The end."

Rinoa absently played with her fingers on the back of Squall's hand. "How do you go about turning in criminals?" she wondered, her voice light.

"Slap them with a Sleep spell," Squall replied.

"Just crack 'em one upside the head - they won't wake up until they're in jail!" Zell threw a few punches to the air.

Squall rolled his eyes. "That's why they're doing missions and you're in here with papers," he said.

It took Zell a few precious minutes to realize that Squall was joking - his sense of humor was so dark and sarcastic that not everyone could detect it immediately. But finally he burst out laughing and tossed a napkin at Squall.

"At least I'm not trapped in the Headmaster's office, Commander."

This made Squall glower and return the napkin, high-projectile speed.

"So," Rinoa said, interjecting herself as a shield between Squall and Zell, "what are you guys doing now?"

"Well," Selphie said, "we get a week of leave. So we're going back to Trabia. Oh yeah!" She suddenly erupted with excitement. "Look, my Festival is in two weeks and I want to turn it into a fundraiser for Trabia! Will you guys help me?"

Rinoa nodded eagerly. Squall and Zell exchanged uneasy glances, their battle suddenly forgotten.

Squall glanced over at Irvine. "Do I have to?" he mouthed.

"She'll make you," Irvine mouthed back, gesturing to Rinoa, who was excitedly discussing details with Selphie. 

Squall narrowed his eyes at his girlfriend and thought evil thoughts.

"What about you guys?" Selphie turned to Zell and Squall. "Irvine said he'd help. You'll help too, right? I'll need everybody's help. Squall, you can be in charge of security, you'll like that. And Zell, you have to talk to vendors in Balamb, you know them all."

Squall and Zell traded looks with each other and rolled their eyes.

"Yes, Selphie," Squall said finally. "I'll do it. Because Trabia needs it."

Selphie went to squeal, but Squall raised his hand - 

"And because you and Rin'll never shut up until I agree."

The girls looked at each other and then burst out laughing.

"What about you, Zell?" Selphie asked, her eyes twinkling. "You're trapped now."

Zell waved a hand nonchalantly. "I'll do it," he said casually, "If you go get me some hot dogs right now."

Rinoa and Selphie exchanged glances and then ran for the cafeteria line.

Squall looked at Zell, mock disgust written all over his face. 'That was easy," he said.

Zell shrugged. "Man, I'm cheap," he said. "And it's not like I'd get out of it anyway - you know that as well as I do."

Irvine started laughing. "Maybe you're smarter than the rest of us," he chuckled. "I sure didn't get any hot dogs out of this deal."

"Heh heh." Zell grinned. "I'm the smart one." He tossed a punch in the air and then, distracted, looked down: "And what's the deal with you and Selphie?"

Irvine shrugged lazily. "I don't know what you mean, Zell," he said, stretching.

"I saw you!" Zell waggled a finger in his face. "You kissed her!"

Irvine smirked at his friend's discomfort. "I dunno, Zell," he said, teasing further. "Maybe I won't tell you."

"You have to!" Zell raised his fists threateningly, grinning. "I can beat your ass!"

Irvine whistled. "SO scared," he said sarcastically.

"You're a jerk."

"Irvy is not a jerk," Selphie said as she approached, both hands carrying a plate full of hotdogs. "I brought some for you too, sweetie," she said, setting a plate in front of Irvine. "You're helping too, so you get hot dogs!"

Zell gaped. Irvine winked at him and started eating as Rinoa approached with similar trays in her hands.

"So where did Quistis go?" Selphie asked as she chewed. 

"Mission," Zell groaned as he stuffed another hot dog into his mouth. "She left me with most of her grading as well."

"What sort of mission?" Irvine asked. "Anything related to what we had done?"

Squall leant forward to help himself. "There's a lot of shit going on upstairs," he said darkly, referring to the Headmaster's Office. "It's some sort of combined mission and training run - I bet Quistis is trying to get another Cert."

"Certification?" Rinoa wiped ketchup from the corner of her mouth. "What else does she need?"

Selphie shook her head slowly. "She wouldn't just run off out of nowhere and ditch her classes unless it was an important mission." She paused. "You know that Q likes being an Instructor more than anything."

"But I thought you said -" Rinoa turned to Squall and then hastily cut off the rest of her sentence.

There was a pause, and then Squall leaned forward. "I heard Cid talking to someone about Quistis passing some test. I figured she was just going for another Garden Cert. I really don't know what's going on."

Rinoa giggled. "Figures. You know you're going to be the next Headmaster. You should start paying attention."

Squall glowered darkly. "I am not," he said. "And you know it."

Zell stuffed another hot dog into his mouth. "Hey, who's Headmaster at Trabia now?"

Selphie paused. "You know, I have no idea!" She giggled nervously. "I guess I should know, huh? Squall, do you know?"

Squall, looking bothered, shrugged. "Whatever," he said. "No idea."

"We'll find out soon enough," Irvine said, reaching over to poke Selphie. "Want to leave today or tomorrow?"

"I can't wait!" Selphie's eyes were shining. "Let's go this afternoon! I'll email some of my old friends and make sure we have a place to stay."

"You get the Ragnarok?' Zell slumped. "Aww, maaa-aaan."

"Jealous," Selphie sung, "You're just jealous."

"Little Miss Speed Demon," Zell shot back, grabbing the last hot dog. "Just don't wreck it alright?"

"For your information, I am a _wonderful_ driver!" Selphie exclaimed. 

"You just like to drive wonderfully fast," Squall muttered under his breath. Rinoa laughed and slugged him on the arm.

"C'mon, Seff." Irvine stood up, extending his arm for her. "Let's get going."

"I wouldn't trust her with my life," Zell called after them. "Make sure you wear a seatbelt!"

"And a crash suit," Squall added.

Selphie turned around, stuck out her tongue, and left.

"They're so mean," she said to Irvine.

The cowboy shrugged, finally reclaiming his hat. "You drive fast," he said simply.

"Hey!" She stopped, hands on her hips. "You're supposed to be on my side!"

He looked down at her, a one-sided smirk appearing. "I didn't say I didn't like it," he said, his voice low and thick.

Selphie winked at him. "You like it fast, huh?"

Irvine blinked. Was she teasing him? "I like an adventure," he murmured, smiling down at her.

"Well, come on, cowboy." She reached up to tilt his hat down over his eyes. "Get your things. And we'll see just how much you can take."

"Is that a challenge?" Irvine asked as he followed her into the dorm.

"It's a threat," Selphie replied, grinning. "Come on! Off to Trabia!"


	16. Sixteen: homecoming

  
  


_I love your reviews. Seriously. It's such a wonderful feeling - especially during finals week!_

_So, here goes:_

_- yes, last chapter was fluff. This one is as well. I wanted something cute, and it was a chance to drop a couple hints ... _

_- Quistis's mission - well, mentioning that was like a little inside joke for me ^^ Quistis's mission is leading into another story I am currently working on called 'A Shine Like Gold'. It won't be up for a while. Writing Quistis here has made me want to tell her story as well; 'Gold' will be an introspective as well as a story of what happens to her afterward. However, 'Cowboy' needs closure first. (Wink)_

_- I'm pretty sure Trabia never had a named Headmaster in the game (and if so, I'm making one up anyway.)_

_- The plot has a few interesting turns to make before we re-confront Vanesa and the forces behind that side-plot._

_- I hate school ^^ _

Chapter Sixteen

homecoming

  
  


"Woo-hoo!!"

Irvine leaned back in his chair, relaxed, smiling at the familiar sound of Selphie in the Ragnarok cockpit. They had packed - hell, they hadn't even unpacked yet - and thrown the bags in the back; Selphie had launched herself at the controls as if they were a long-lost friend from her childhood. Irvine was _so_ amused. Little chipper cheerful Selphie: all it took was a steering wheel to turn her into a raging devil. 

The little speed demon was currently trying to scare the crap out of Irvine; but it wasn't working. Irvine liked speed and danger and excitement just as much as any cowboy. And the sight of Selphie at the wheel, grinning furiously as she revved the engines, was quite possibly the sexiest thing Irvine had seen in quite a while.

Wait. He hadn't meant to think that. 

She dipped down over the ocean, skimming the waves skillfully. The girl did have a knack for high-speed chases, Irvine admitted, even if no one was really chasing them. "Had enough, cowboy?" she asked with a grin.

"No way," Irvine said. "Can't get enough of you."

Selphie pouted. "You're supposed to get all scared and stuff," she said.

"Oh, fine." Irvine playfully gripped the armrests on his seat as he had seen Rinoa do before. "SELPHIE!! You drive like a MANIAC!"

"Hah!" She burst out laughing. "That was great!"

Irvine wagged a finger at her. "As long as you know it wasn't real."

"Whatever," she said, and banked the ship. "Let's head off to Trabia!"

She slowed down slightly; the flight to Trabia was scenic and lovely. Trabia Garden stood alone on its own continent, founded in the midst of the elusive Country of Trabia. Elusive was the perfect word; Trabians generally weren't interested in being a country - or being anything internationally, really. The entire continent was littered with tiny villages, towns, and communes. None of them were large enough to earn a proper marking on any map. But overall the Trabian continent had been judged to hold enough potential that it was worth building a Garden there.

And thus Trabia Garden was born. Trabia had always been slightly different from its sister Gardens; even though it had no mother country like Galbadia or founding center like Balamb, its students had always been united for a common cause. It was an atmosphere that Trabia tried to foster rather than quell. 

Selphie had been surprised when she came to Balamb; no one there had shown any interest in the Garden Festival, and she had resorted to asking people face-to-face in a lame attempt to scare them into saying yes (Selphie was the first to admit that she wasn't very intimidating). No one in Balamb had shown interest in anything other than themselves and their own tiny little worlds. There were groups of friends, yes, and it wasn't that everyone was self-centered - Squall had even shown her around on her very first day - but no one showed any interest in activities that benefitted the community as a whole. Selphie Tilmitt was shocked - her entire life had been centered around helping her Garden and her 'people'; why else would you be a SeeD if not to help those that needed it?

Trabia Garden itself was looming on the horizon, beautiful and desolate. The initial devastation of the Garden had faded, leaving the ruins looking historical and gentle, almost pristine. The graceful walls lay scattered in pieces; the bright, electrically-charged ring that had hovered and spun about the Garden's top had shattered, leaving sparks over the snow. But things had improved from Selphie's last visit; the clutter of wreckage was slowly morphing back into a recognizable shape. But something as massive as a garden ...it would be years.

Selphie sighed, slowing the Ragnarok as she stared. In her mind's eye she saw Trabia as it had once been: tall and slender, twin towers spiraling sky-high, the shimmering ring that supplied Garden with electricity slowly rotating about the two towers as if admiring them. The snow in the background, the high mountains - and Selphie was a child again, seeing Trabia from far-off, and deciding that one day she would be a student in the graceful, castle-like building.

A soft touch on her hand brought her back to reality: Irvine reached over, squeezing her slender fingers gently with his, rough fingertips extending from black fingerless gloves. "Come on, Seff," he said gently. 

Selphie smiled as she touched the controls once again. It was as if Irvine Kinneas could read her mind. And although it made part of her uneasy - the rest of her secretly enjoyed it. It felt desperately good to have a friend who understood, finally. 

She gently dropped the Ragnarok to the ground right outside Trabia; they headed out of the ship. Selphie paused; taking a small control pad out of her pocket, she entered a code and pushed a button. There was a bright chirping sound, and a small light beside the door lit up.

Irvine gaped. "What's that?"

Selphie grinned. "It's a lock, silly. I programmed it."

"You what?"

She held out the keypad proudly. "I figured we should start locking her up, so I programmed a portable to lock it for us. It's kind of like a remote. It'll lock, unlock, and even start her engines if we're in a hurry."

"Ah, but does it chill the beverages?"

"You're an idiot."

Irvine slugged her arm playfully. "You should make a button that'll put the beers on ice for us, and start up the grill. And one that orders a legion of bikini-clad women to serve the food."

"Right." Selphie stuck out her tongue. "Bikini-clad women. I'll be sure to install that one."

"Or just install yourself in a bikini," Irvine smirked. "That's just as good."

Selphie smacked him. "Vin! Behave yourself."

They headed into the remains of Trabia. A small building had been set up nearby; a makeshift trailer with offices, obviously portable and temporary, serving for administration duties. The rest of the garden was slowly shaping up; there were teams of students and construction workers at work currently, concentrating on moving the larger beams that had collapsed to make room for a new framework.

"Here," Selphie said cheerfully. "They said to head to the offices. I bet it's over there."

The two SeeDs headed to the tiny trailer; Selphie greeted the receptionist with a squeal.

_"Cassie!!"_

Selphie dropped her bag and almost leapt over the desk in excitement. Laughing, the black-haired woman behind the desk put up her hands to ward off the attack, laughing.

"Bloody Ifrit, Selph! It's been ages!"

She slowly wheeled a wheelchair out from behind the desk, and Selphie sobered slightly, throwing her arms around the woman more cautiously. "Cass, what happened?"

The woman looked down with disgust. Her hair was long and silky, black smoothness falling past her shoulders. Her eyes were brilliant blue, her face pale. "It was the missiles," she said to Selphie. "I was caught in debris. They expect it to heal, but we'll see."

"I'm sorry, Cass." Selphie wrung her hands. "We're here to help."

Cassie's eyes flicked upwards and landed on Irvine; handsome cowboy, standing slightly off to the side, fringy bangs falling from under the black hat. "Who is that?" she asked, a slight hint of admiration in her voice.

Selphie beamed. "Irvine, meet Cassie," she said, reaching out to take his hand. "Cass, this is Irvine Kinneas. SeeD from Galbadia, graduated at Balamb. We grew up together."

Cassie grinned. "My, you've been busy, Selph. How exactly did you grow up with this Galbadian SeeD if you were here at Trabia?"

"Stop teasing me. We lived in an orphanage together before we came to Garden, you doof." Selphie's face turned slightly red. "We're here to meet with the Headmaster. Is..." She paused. "Who is the Headmaster? Is it still...?"

Cassie sighed, and a look of sadness washed her pale features. "Headmaster Abrya died in the missile crash," she said softly. "Well, not in the crash - shortly afterward. Headmaster Shain - they instated Headmaster Shain a week after the missile crisis. He's new, but he knows what he's doing."

Selphie bowed her head. "Abrya was ...she was so good..."

"Well." Cassie commanded a smile across her face. "Shall I direct you in?"

"How'd he get you as a receptionist?" Selphie asked suddenly, a smile tickling her lips as well.

Cassie grimaced playfully. "What else was I going to do with all these injuries?" she asked. "I was trying to help with construction. Besides," she said with a wink, "he's pretty cute. It's not a bad job."

Cassie punched a few buttons on her computer and then said, "Go on back, Selph. Last door on the right. See you later, Irvine."

They headed down the long trailer; Selphie knocked on the door. "Come on in," a deep voice said.

They were swept into a tiny office kept in meticulous shape; shelves everywhere, stacked with books and papers and information, file cabinets lining one entire wall. The desk before them, though covered with paper, was ordered in a way that they were immediately sure followed some divine design.

"I'm Headmaster Shain Sheridan. Welcome to Trabia."

Irvine blinked. The man shaking his hand was quite a shock - devastatingly handsome, relatively long black hair falling into his eyes and grazing the collar of his uniform jacket. Deep green eyes shone with a welcome. The handshake was firm, confident, and even authoritative. Overall, Shain Sheridan looked like he couldn't have been more than three years, tops, older than Irvine. Maybe four. What was a kid doing running a Garden?

_Well,_ a voice in Irvine's head said, _Squall's been acting as Headmaster for a while, and he's only eighteen. But this kid - he can't be more than - if he's older than twenty-three, I'll eat my cowboy hat._

Selphie was simply grinning. _This guy is almost as cute as Irvine! Good job Cassie! She landed the right job for sure._

Finally, she drew her heels together and saluted. "Selphie Tilmitt, Trabia cadet; graduated through Balamb. It's good to be back, sir."

He came to shake her hand as well. "Welcome back, Tilmitt. I've been informed you'll be vacationing here?"

"Yes," Selphie nodded. "This is Irvine Kinneas; Galbadia trained, also graduated through Balamb. He and I are taking leave, and I wanted to come home."

Shain gestured to two chairs arranged on the other side of his desk. "I received your notification," he said as they settled in, "and I've reserved the room for you - our dormitories were the first thing reconstructed, and although they're still a little rusty I trust you'll find them acceptable."

Selphie smiled. "The place looks fantastic! I haven't been back in a while. You guys sure have made progress!"

Shain laced his fingers together on the desk. "Ever since - since I arrived in Trabia, reconstruction has been my main goal. SeeDs on the verge of graduation have been sent out; our operative SeeD cadets have been placed under the jurisdiction of the other Gardens. It is my goal to see Trabia's reconstruction in the next year or two."

There was a sense of determination and pride in the headmaster's voice that filled Irvine with confidence. _He's much older than he seems,_ the cowboy thought; _or, like Quistis, he acts older than he is. Maybe he's alright for this job._

"It looks great," Selphie said warmly. "Are you going to rebuild it like the original plans?"

"Yes," Shain replied. "Trabia was ...she was so ...there's no reason to do otherwise."

"Trabia was beautiful," Selphie said, completing the sentence that the Headmaster couldn't. "The old Trabia Garden was like a castle."

"While you're here," Shain said, the hint of authority back in his voice, "I wanted to ask you a question. I went through your records - security-related, you understand. I see you just completed a mission. May I inquire about it?"

Selphie paused. "I don't see why not," she said. "Completed missions are public knowledge, usually. Ask away."

"I was aware that of the operative teams assigned to the facade mission, one of them was from Trabia - recent Trabian graduates, reassigned to Galbadia Garden while we are undergoing reconstruction. I wanted to ask about their fate, and if you think that Trabia is in any danger."

Selphie bit her lip, and then shrugged. "The mission details are available on file," she said. "One Trabian operative was found to be in league with a Galbadian graduate, and is being charged with treason and subterfuge."

"Yes, I know," Shain said. "What I'm concerned with is your opinion of Trabia's security."

There was a pause, and then Irvine said with a slight drawl: "No offense, sir, but I doubt Trabia will be the target of any terrorist attacks. You guys have already been hit. No one's gonna waste bombs on this when they could target something else."

Shain blinked at Irvine's direct response, and then decided that he could respect it. "I have had that thought," he admitted. "But I wanted to make sure, and since you were coming here, I wanted to take the opportunity to collect your advice on Trabian operation."

"Well," Selphie thought aloud, "if the Trabian graduates aren't even under command here anymore, you shouldn't have anything to worry about. Just keeping a general eye on things should be alright."

"I appreciate your opinion," Headmaster Shain replied good-naturedly. "So. What else can I do for you during your stay?"

"I was wondering if we could rent one of the SeeD cars," Selphie replied. "I'd like to go out and visit my foster parents in Gallia, and I doubt they'd take too kindly if we flew the ship there."

"Oh, yeah," Irvine said, cutting in. "You wouldn't have anywhere we could dock a spaceship, do you?"

Shain didn't blink an eye. "The famous Ragnarok?" he mused. "Headmaster Cid must think highly of you."

"We found the ship," Selphie exclaimed - not meanly, just more in excitement. "I was the first one to fly it! Would you like to see it?"

Amused, Shain gave her a half smile. "Maybe later," he said. "For now, you could probably keep it outside; we don't have any real vehicular storage yet, and the weather should be alright."

"As for a SeeD car," he said, reaching for one folder in the midst of a stack, "I anticipated as much, seeing as you're from the area. You'll find one reserved in your name, Tilmitt, from tomorrow morning."

"Great!" Selphie squealed. "Hey, how did you know I'm from around here?"

Shain smiled at her childlike antics. "I told you I checked your files," he said. "Headmaster Abrya kept close tabs on most of her upper-rank students."

Selphie bowed her head. "I'm sorry about Headmaster Abrya," she said. "Were you close to her?"

Headmaster Shain suddenly clammed up. "Yes," he said simply. "It was quite a tragedy."

"What happened?" Selphie asked innocently.

Shain sighed, his eyes distant. "She was injured in the accident, but no one really noticed; there she was, commanding the rescues and the reparations as usual. Then one day she collapsed." He paused. "She'd been caught under debris; she passed away of internal bleeding problems a week after the missile crisis."

"I'm sorry," Selphie whispered.

"She was - she was quite a woman," Shain said, again the stern Headmaster. "I take her as my role model; I can only hope to live up to her example."

Selphie smiled at him kindly. "It appears that you're doing a wonderful job," she said warmly.

"Can I have a student show you to your quarters?" Headmaster Shain asked.

"That would be fantastic," Irvine replied.

"Cassie, my secretary, will find you someone to show you the dorms," he said. "If there's anything else I can do for you, let me know."

"Thank you." Selphie, then Irvine, shook his hand. They headed out to the main room, where Cassie - currently on the phone - waved them into the hands of a nervous young student.

"My name's Ran," the boy said, brushing his bright red hair from his face. "I'll take you to the dorms."

They had taken all of two steps when he blurted: "Are you really Selphie Tilmitt and Irvine Kinneas?"

Irvine burst out laughing. "No, we're decoys," he said.

Selphie slugged him. "Of course we are!" she said brightly. 

"You're so famous around here," Ran said nervously. "Did you really fly that spaceship outside?"

"Yup!" Selphie grinned. "It's great."

"We all watched you during the Sorceress War," Ran said, anxiety slowly fading. "Everybody knows who you are."

"Great," Irvine groaned. "Autographs, anyone?"

Ran flushed bright red.

"Hey," Selphie asked kindly. "Would you give us a tour?"

The redhead perked up. "Sure thing!" he said.

They walked around Trabia's ruins. Ran pointed out the classrooms, which had been decimated; and the cafeteria, a slightly dusty fixture. "The food's really good," he reassured them. "The room just doesn't look so hot."

He then took them past a gaping hole, behind which grew thick vegetation, slowly taking over the crumbled walls. "The missiles took out our Training Center," he explained. "It was really interesting around here the first week, Grats popping out of nowhere. We all just learned not to walk around alone, especially late at night. And we've all gotten TONS of experience form fighting them off."

Selphie giggled. "I can imagine it was pretty crazy."

"It was a little scary," Ran admitted. "They'd just pop over the walls like nothin'. But they're mostly gone now."

They picked their way through the rubble - "There's the basketball court" - and past the old tech room. The computers were all trashed, dusty and broken, wires spilling everywhere. Selphie gave a resigned sigh.

Ran finally trudged them up to their room. "These are our new dorms," he said. "They're only temporary, but right now they're all we got. Which ones are yours?"

Selphie looked down at the slip of paper in her hand - and blushed horribly. 

"What's wrong?" Irvine asked, concerned.

"I, uh..." She blinked, and looked up at him sheepishly. "I only got one room."

Ran tried not to snicker.

Irvine laughed, relieved. "That's alright. We can share - we've done it before. On missions," he emphasized for their red-headed companion.

"I'm sorry." Selphie was horribly embarrassed. How could she have forgotten? Perhaps - it had been so natural to share a room with Irvine - was she looking forward to it?

This wasn't a mission, though. It was real life. She couldn't believe she had forgotten that.

Ran grinned, chastised. "Alright. The D-block is up this way - around that corner. You're D12. Pretty good room."

"Thanks, Ran," Selphie said. "We should be able to make it from here."

The redhead grinned at them and took off at a jog.

"Irvine," Selphie began again as they lugged their things into the dorm room, "I'm so sorry. I completely forgot -"

He reached out and put a hand on her arm. "Don't worry about it," he said softly. "It's not a big deal. If you're uncomfortable about it, I'll sleep on the couch."

She smiled wryly. "I'm not - uncomfortable - it's not that. I just ... I wasn't thinking."

"Seff," he said, reaching out and brushing her cheek. "We've slept together before - all through our battles, all our missions. Don't stress out." Then he winked. "Not like I'm gonna take advantage of you or something."

"Oh yeah?" she countered, more comfortable with his teasing. "Maybe I will make you sleep on the couch."

"Selphie Tilmitt," he said, grabbing her around the waist and spinning her, "if I were going to take advantage of you, I would have done it a long time ago."

She fought against his grip, finally freeing herself and stepping back. "Is that so?"

"Not really," Irvine said, making a face. "I prefer my girls willing."

"You are horrible!" She tossed a couch cushion at him.

This only resulted in a pillow fight; Irvine lunged for the throw pillows on the nearby chair, while Selphie armed herself with the other couch cushion. Mayhem ensued - mayhem, chaos, and a lot of giggling. Two sets of sore arms and one large mess later, they lay on the floor, exhausted.

"Hey, Seff," Irvine said. She grunted.

"Where do your parents live?"

"Huh?"

"You said -"

"Oh, foster parents." Selphie rolled over to look at Irvine. "Gallia is one of the little towns on the Trabian continent. It's not too far - maybe a half-hour drive. I used to visit a lot when I was at school here."

"What are they like?"

Selphie rolled back over, smiling at the ceiling. "Marcus and Tamara Devron. She's a seamstress; he's minor management down at the energy plant. Nice people - real cheerful." She laughed. "As you might expect."

"Devron?" Irvine asked. "Their last name?"

"Yeah," Selphie said, puzzled. "I dunno where 'Tilmitt' came from, then. I've never really thought about it before."

"Huh," Irvine pondered. "I wonder if..."

"If what?" Selphie was suddenly riveted. "Do you think...?"

"Well," Irvine drawled. "I know my people were named 'Kinneas'. Zell goes by 'Dincht', his Ma's name. And Squall - Squall's been going by Leonhart, though we know now that his family name's Loire."

"Do you think that my real parents were the Tilmitts?" Selphie asked, her voice hushed.

"I don't know, Seff." Irvine's voice was calming. "Don't get your hopes up. But we can ask tomorrow when we go."

She sighed. "I've never thought about that," she admitted. 

"You couldn't remember anything," Irvine pointed out. "I'm sure that had something to do with it. You had no strings to tie together."

She grinned, excited. "I'll ask them tomorrow!" she exclaimed. "Maybe they'll know something! It's like a mystery, and we can try to solve it."

"Alright," Irvine said. "But mystery-solving girls need a good night's sleep."

They got ready for bed, pulling things out of their suitcases - still packed from the Deling City mission. Irvine smirked; what a true cowboy, living on the road, bringin' only what he could carry.

Selphie was looking at him oddly.

"Do you want me to sleep out here?" he asked softly.

She bit her lip, and then gave him a crooked smile. Awkwardly, she said: 

"You don't have to."


	17. Seventeen: things in a box

  
  


_Well, hello again._

_I was hoping to have this story finished up - or at least partially concluded - by the time I finished school and left on vacation (a week in CANCUN, yes, please be jealous ^^). However, that doesn't seem to be happening; finals plus moving plus everything else are trying their hardest to make this difficult for me. _

_This means that the story is going to end up taking a major hiatus - I'll be out of commission from 10 May until 19 May, at least. Then I have to deal with moving in to my new apartment and actually getting my internet activated._

_I'm very sorry to cut this right in the middle of the story - I'll try my hardest to at least reach a nice resting point before I vanish. It would totally suck to leave you guys with a cliffhanger, so I'll try not to be TOO mean._

_And so. Here's a chapter. Thanks as usual for all the great feedback - I really appreciate it._

  
  
  
  


Chapter Seventeen

things in a box

  
  
  
  


They had taken to the road quite early, eager to get the half-hour trek under their belts. Selphie was behind the wheel, pedal to the floor, chattering away about her childhood life in Gallia.

"It's just a little town, Irvine, don't get excited. Most of Trabia gets along just from trading with each other, and since no one town has to make everything, they don't really. It's empty and boring and beautiful."

Irvine was watching out the window. The land _was_ beautiful; the chilly hills of a northern climate, tall majestic pines and towering marble quarries.

"How's the farming here?" he asked, intrigued, remembering snatches and snippets of being a young farmboy; heat, sunlight. Dust and grit and sweat.

Selphie giggled. "Here, it's alright. The southern edge of the continent, below the Aspalas - that's the mountain range - gets enough sun and warm air off of the ocean that we can farm. Up north, past the Aspala ridge to the Shumi side of the continent, they depend more on importing."

"You sure know a lot about Trabia," Irvine commented, amused.

"Of course!" Selphie chirped. "I had to study it, silly. Plus Mum and Dad were always big on its history."

She pointed across a clearing to a tall structure standing in the distance. "See, most of Trabia's income comes from mining. Precious metals, ores, fuel. Even jewels in come cases. The northern towns are known for their metalworking."

"I didn't know that."

She grinned at him. "Not many people do. Trabia isn't very interesting unless it's your home."

The road before them made a lazy wide V; Selphie followed it to the right, hitting the gas. "We're coming up on the outskirts of Gallia!" she announced cheerfully. "Pay attention!"

"Why," Irvine smirked, "you gonna give me a quiz later?"

Selphie stuck out her tongue. "It's interesting, you big dummy," she said. 

"Ohh," Irvine said, as if he had just realized something. "Is that it?"

"Are you bored?" Selphie's lips turned downward in a pout.

Irvine reached over to squeeze her hand. "No, I'm teasing," he said. "Lighten up."

She grinned. "I'm just really excited! I haven't been home in ages."

Irvine watched as they slowed down to pass through the beginnings of a small town. It reminded him a little bit of Winhill: lazy stretched-out farms, ancient and intriguing shops. They continued casually through a cross-way, over a bridge, and past an immense stone house, crumbling with age.

"This is all Gallia?"

"Yup!" Selphie proudly glanced out the windows as she drove. "Not much, but it's home."

"Not much?" Irvine whistled. "It's huge, Selphie."

"Yeah, but it's not a city," she said, biting her lip. 

"It sure doesn't have to be," Irvine said, as they passed another immense castle of marble, this one in slightly better shape with a sign reading _Gallia Inn and Pub_ before it. "It's enormous, and it's beautiful."

"You think so?" Selphie asked, pleased. "Here, this is what we called 'downtown'. Take a look."

It was certainly more pleasant than any real downtown Irvine had ever seen; streets lined with amiable shops and quaint little houses. Crumbling picket fence outlined a friendly cemetery; children swarmed around a playground and threw stones in a nearby pond. A couple cars casually turned in and out of the bank, the restaurant, the few business-like buildings. 

"It was always so far away from everything," Selphie said wistfully. "It was great to be a kid here - but as you grow up, you realize that it's not entirely true. It's so sheltered."

Irvine was surprised. Somehow he had expected cheerful, energetic, computer-whiz Selphie to claim some bustling city as her hometown. Gallia was relaxed to the point of laziness, calm and serene and ancient. It was lovely in its own way.

Selphie turned in behind a small outdoor coffeeshop and parked the car on the road outside a small house. Cheerful burnt-red brick, creamy shutters, and a stone walkway beckoned them in.

"This is it!" Selphie was jumping up and down. "Come on, Irvine!"

They had only taken a few steps when the door was flung open and a cheerful voice called: "I thought I heard somebody! Come on, honey, they're here!"

Tamara Devron was a short, kindly looking woman with a brooking-no-nonsense air of energy about her. The soft wrinkles of age were beginning to show on her round face; her hair, cut short around her face and collar, was frosted with gray. She threw her arms around Selphie, both women squealing in excitement, and Irvine finally understood where Selphie had gotten her endless supply of spunk and energy. Soon behind, Marcus Devron caught Selphie in his arms, chuckling. The man was tall and thin, also softening with age. He looked gruff and cheerful. 

Irvine grinned. He felt a small twinge of envy creeping up his spine - not as strong as jealousy - that Selphie had enjoyed such a friendly home. But he was happy for her - happy that she had enjoyed this much of a family. This adorable little town and such loving parents: it was a side to his Selphie that he had never before seen.

"Come on in, you two," Tamara said, ushering Selphie and Irvine into the small, cheery house. Flowers and bright yellow trim decorated a cheerful kitchen. 

"Mum, there's a delicious smell coming from the kitchen," Selphie chirped. "What is that?"

"I made you cinnamon rolls," Tamara said, vanishing around the corner. "Coffee? Coffee for your friend?"

"For both," Selphie said. Reaching out to grab Irvine's arm, she said: "Mum, Dad, this is Irvine Kinneas. He's a SeeD too. We actually lived together at the orphanage, and we happened to meet up during our great adventures."

"Nice to meet you," Irvine said, shaking Marcus's hand. 

Tamara's cheerful voice called from the kitchen: "Pleasure to meet you, son. I'll be right out. You know, Fia, this is the first boy you've ever brought home!"

"Mum!" Selphie turned beet red.

Tamara stuck her head around the corner, a smile wide across her face. "It's my only chance to tease you, goofhead," she said.

"Fia?" Irvine asked, a smile teasing his lips. 

"Pet name," Selphie said with a grimace. "They thought it was cute."

They relaxed into the living room; Selphie and Irvine sat on the couch while Marcus took a comfortable chair. Tamara entered with a plate of cinnamon rolls and mugs of coffee and perched herself in a nearby rocking chair. 

"So what's this big adventure you've been telling us about?" Tamara chirped. "We've even seen your name in the papers - are you famous?"

Selphie giggled. "Sort of," she said. And she launched herself into the story of the Second Sorceress War.

They listened, rapt, as she talked about her exam at Balamb and their first mission. She mentioned the Forest Owls briefly and then tried to explain the Sorceress. From there Irvine watched as the Devron's eyes grew wider and wider. Selphie kept chattering away, throwing in the explosion of the Missile Base, Garden's mishaps with flying, and the trip to Esthar. By the time she mentioned launching herself into space and the obtaining of the Ragnarok, both her foster parents had stopped chewing.

Laughing, Irvine reached out and grabbed her shoulder. "Pause, Seff. They need to breathe."

"Good gracious!" Tamara exclaimed finally. "Fia darling, I don't believe it! When you said you were training to be a SeeD - does everyone do this sort of thing?"

Selphie giggled. "Not everyone has these problems, mum," she said. "The six of us - well, there were five of us from the orphanage, plus Rinoa. And it was kind of a fate thing."

"Let me get this straight, sweetie." Marcus leaned forward. "You fly a spaceship?"

Irvine burst out laughing. "Oh, does she ever," he said with a grin.

Marcus shook his head. "Still driving like a maniac, Selphie-Tee?"

Selphie closed her eyes and stuck out her tongue at everyone in the room. "You're-all-jerks."

Tamara swallowed her coffee, eyes still wide. "If I had known the danger, I never would have let you join that SeeD!"

Selphie rolled her eyes. "Oh, mum, I can take care of myself."

She continued the story, detailing the escapades in Esthar, the final rush of events with Rinoa, and the fated trip into Time Compression and Edea's Castle. Eventually she finished. There was a long silence.

"I know, mum, I wouldn't believe it if somebody else told me," Selphie urged. "But that's what happened."

"The future and the past? Fate?" Tamara blinked, and then closed her eyes in a wide smile. "Tut, Fia. I'll leave such things to you. An old woman like me should just keep cooking her cinnamon buns."

"Hear, hear," Marcus said, earning himself a glare.

"I just wanted to tell you guys everything," Selphie explained. "Whether you understand it or not. I know I sure don't understand it all. But that's my story!"

Tamara grinned. "I think it's fantastic that you've finally gotten back together with everyone from Edea's orphanage. Such sweet children, I remember. How is everyone?"

Selphie shrugged. "Much the same. We're all friends now..." she winked at Irvine. "And we'll probably be sticking around Balamb for a while. I got my Instructorship, and so I can teach classes there."

"Fantastic," Tamara crooned. "You'd be a wonderful teacher, Fia."

They bustled around for a while, allowing Tamara and Marcus to prepare lunch; it was already afternoon. Selphie's story had eaten up most of the morning. Selphie took Irvine on a quick tour of the house - "That's mum's room, my old room, the study, and - Tarra! Kitty kitty kitty!!" - and the backyard - "my swingset! Irvy, let's go play!"

Irvine watched Selphie, playfully laughing on her old swing, looking like a child in the bright yellow jumper with her shining hair flipped out in its usual fashion. He was pushing her on the swing as she chattered on about the games she used to play with her neighbors. Her eyes were bright with the memories, but every now and then a shadow passed over her face as she spoke of her friends and parents. Irvine knew without asking that she was thinking about everything she had lost: her real family and her memories. He wondered if she was planning on asking her parents about her last name and what it meant.

"Hey dears!" Tamara's cheerful voice called from the screen door. "Lunch is on the table!"

Irvine mused while they were eating. He had seen the way Selphie's face lit up when she connected with these things of her past. Could he, perhaps, find the rest of her past for her? He knew she wanted memories more than anything; but that was a hole that only time could fill in. But if he couldn't give her the memories she wanted, perhaps he could give her facts? Build a time-line around which she could structure her past?

Selphie and her foster parents were chattering away about something. Irvine thought harder. If there was only a way that he could bring her in touch with her _real_ family. Not that there was anything wrong with Mum and Dad Devron. But he knew that Selphie, deep down and more than anything, wanted real roots to her past.

They eventually finished lunch; Irvine volunteered to do the dishes. "Oh no you don't," Selphie said, leaping from her chair to follow him. "You're _my_ guest!"

Irvine, smiling, merely gathered as many dishes as he could carry.

"Not fair!" Selphie whined. "You're bigger. Put those _down!_"

"This is the first time I've ever been scolded for being helpful," Irvine murmured, laughter in his eyes.

"Shut up and let me help," Selphie said under her breath.

"Am I making you look bad?" he teased.

Selphie reached down into the sink and cheerfully splashed him a faceful of soapy water.

Spluttering, Irvine dropped his dishes and took off after her with the sponge.

A few minutes later, a pair of slightly damp teens entered the living room; Tamara and Duncan exchanged knowing glances and smiled.

"You two alright?" Tamara teased lightly.

Selphie plopped into the couch with a sigh. "I'm fine," she chirped. "It's Irvine who has a problem."

Irvine was attempting to run fingers through his wet ponytail (it at some point had been dunked into the sink). "Yeah, I have a problem," he said, grinning. "It's wearing a yellow sundress, it's kind of small, and it seems to like dunking my hair in soapy water."

"Hey!" Selphie exclaimed. "You needed a bath!"

Duncan chuckled. "You two are ridiculous," he said. "I remember watching a fight just like this the day we got you, Selphie-Tee."

Selphie's face was incredulous. "What do you mean?"

Tamara giggled, covering her mouth with one hand. "You were playing with another boy at the orphanage," she said dreamily, "and Edea - your Matron had been cleaning windows when we stopped by. You and this little boy were trying to dunk each other in the bucket. He was bigger than you, but you put up such a fight ...we fell in love right away." She looked at Irvine suddenly. "You said you were at the orphanage. Was that you?"

Irvine chuckled. "Probably, ma'am. From what I remember, Seff and I were always going at each other somehow."

"Mumma?" Selphie's face was suddenly solemn, her lips narrow with resolve. "I've been meaning to ask you something."

"What is it, Fia?" Tamara asked kindly.

Selphie smiled palely. "Well, see, while I was at the Garden they taught us a technique ...er, we use certain ..." She paused and gathered her words. "We fight in battle using certain spirits called Guardian Forces. They let us use amazing powers. It's how they train everybody in SeeD; there's no way we could do the things we have to otherwise. But what nobody knew until recently is that the ...the GFs absorb your memories. So none of us from the orphanage - except Irvine, who had never used one - can remember anything at all."

Tamara gasped. "No memories?" she whispered. "None at all?"

Selphie shook her head slowly. "I've lost most of my memories about the orphanage, and some of my younger experiences here with you," she said sadly. "And I - I found one when I was too young to know how to use it - and I - didn't know what I was doing. So most of my memories are wiped out." 

She paused, and Irvine reached out to tuck his fingers around hers - a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by her foster parents. "They don't know if it's permanent or not yet; GFs are relatively new, and they're still experimenting on it."

"What are you asking, Fia dear?" Tamara's voice was kind. "We have photos of your entire life here, if that's what you want."

Selphie smiled and giggled a bit. "That's fantastic, Mum, and I'll be sure to come back some time and go through them. But I want to know something else." She breathed slowly. "Why is my last name Tilmitt and not Devron? Is that my real name? Do you know anything about my real parents?"

Tamara and Duncan Devron exchanged a look between them: one that said in very clear terms that this was not an unexpected question. The look held no regret; merely a small sadness, a glance backwards on more solemn times. It was prepared and resolute, yet at the same time sorrowful.

Duncan came forward and sat on Selphie's other side, putting his arm around his foster daughter. "Selphie-Tee," he said, and then paused. "I even call you Selphie T. T for Tilmitt. We've been calling you that ever since you came to live with us." The old man squeezed her tightly for a second and then sighed. "Yes, Tilmitt is your real name. We couldn't bear to take that away from you after you lost everything else."

"Lost?" Selphie sniffled.

"Yes," he said gently. "Poor little kid."

"Selphie," Tamara said. "You remember that necklace we bought you?"

Selphie reached up to tease the small locket she wore around her neck, playing it familiarly between her fingers. "Yeah!" she said. "You guys bought this for me when I first came here."

"Do you know why?"

Selphie paused, intrigued. "I don't remember," she said softly.

Tamara sighed, tucking a piece of soft gray hair behind her ear. "When we adopted you," she began, "you were wearing another locket. Edea made you take it off and gave it to us. You were so upset about the locket - you really wanted it back. So Marcus and I went out to buy you another locket to replace the one that had been taken from you."

The old woman sighed. "That locket - it was your mother's. Edea wanted to keep it safe from your childhood antics. We've kept it for you with the rest of your things, ever since."

Selphie's eyes were wide, and perhaps for the first time in her life, she was speechless.

Irvine reached out to grab her hand. "Do you have the other things?" he asked for her, softly.

Tamara smiled. "Of course, son," she said. "They're in a box in the attic. We've kept them for little Fia forever. For a while, when you were at Trabia, we wanted to wait until you graduated to give them to you." Tamara sighed. "But then you left for Balamb, and things went so fast and so far from there, and we haven't seen you since. I guess this is as good of a time as ever."

Selphie whispered: "My parents?"

Duncan stood up and patted Selphie on the shoulder. "I'll be right back," he said.

"We were really waiting for you to ask," Tamara explained softly. "But then you got older and older and we felt like we should give them to you anyway. And then you left."

"How did they know my last name?" Selphie asked.

Tamara smiled as Irvine put his hand around Selphie's shoulders much like her foster-father had. "Your parents owned a shop," she began, "largest shop in the area, or so Edea told us. Everybody knew about Tilmitt's - it was some sort of convenience store, selling items and nick-knacks and some of your mother's work. From the story Edea heard, your town was razed at some point during the war; and of course they went after the biggest shop in the area. A few townspeople found you and passed you along until you reached Edea, with the story about your family and the small collection of things in a box."

"Here," Duncan said gently. He held out a small wooden box, covered somewhat in dust. Selphie was frozen; Irvine reached out with a smile and took it, placing it in her lap.

"It's been in the attic this whole time," Duncan said, "but it was in a bag, so everything should be okay."

Incredulous, Selphie opened the lid.

It creaked lightly as a gust of ancient air escaped; she breathed in deep, inhaling the dust and the memories of time. The first thing she pulled out was an old antique locket, tarnished silver on a thin chain.

"That's it," Tamara said matter-of-factly. "That's your mother's. You wore it sometimes at the orphanage; Edea would take it from you and hide it away, but you would always figure out a way to get it back."

Irvine smiled as Selphie handed him the trinket. He had forgotten about Sefie's "treasure" and the expeditions to "rescue" it from Matron's "evil clutches". 

Selphie delicately pulled out some old, yellowing pictures; a detailed brooch, also tarnished with age; a little journal; a picture-frame, three smiling faces sheltered beneath cracked glass. She was barely taking it all in. _Mine. My family's. My real mother and father. Oh, Mum..._

She tucked the lid back on the box, her eyes welling up with tears. "I'll look later," she said, her voice thick with emotion, closing her eyes.

She heard Irvine's low voice say, "Here."

His hands brushed her neck gently, softly; she felt something cool settle around her throat. She opened her eyes to see him diligently fastening the clasp of the old locket around her neck.

She looked down; the old silver clinked lightly against the brighter silver. Old family, new family. Clear, shining notes as metal hit metal. Silver tears, clasped around her neck.

"Thank you," she said. To Irvine. To Mum and Dad, who had kept this for her. To her real mother and father, neither of which she could remember.

Then a wave of exultation hit her. _Why be sad when there's something to be happy about?_

Her family. She finally had a link with her family!

After lunch she and Irvine took a walk around Gallia proper, combing the small town with excitement (Selphie) and amusement (Irvine) while Tamara and Duncan ran small errands and chatted. Most of the townspeople recognized Selphie, even "all grown up"; she remembered almost everyone's name as well. They strolled past the school where Selphie had gone until the age of thirteen, when she had taken the SeeD entry exam and gone to the shining new Trabia Garden. Then they headed back to the Devron house to have a cheerful dinner. Soon after Selphie realized the time and decided to head home.

Tamara handed Irvine a plate of cinnamon rolls while Duncan embraced his daughter. The Devrons stood on their front porch and waved until they could no longer see the car - just as Irvine predicted they would.

Once on the road, Selphie hit the gas, so happy she couldn't see straight. _My family!_

"Hey, Seff," Irvine's smooth voice said. "I don't think you want a ticket, do you?"

"Huh?" She looked down. "Holy Hyne! Thirty-five over!"

Irvine laughed at her. "I know you're distracted, but you'll be paying out your ears if you don't take it easy."

"You're just scared," Selphie said, but she diligently slowed herself to a mere ten over the speed limit.

"Scared for your wallet, maybe," Irvine retorted. "How will you take me out to dinner if you have to pay a speeding ticket? Or five?"

"Who says I'm taking you out?" Selphie bantered. "Isn't the guy supposed to treat the girl?"

"Hey," Irvine chuckled, holding his hands out, "I'm all for women's rights."

Selphie gave a dramatic sigh. "What happened to chivalry?"

"Ouch," Irvine said. "I'm nothing but a gentleman to you."

"Except when I'm paying," Selphie snorted.

They headed back to Trabia Garden and retreated to the room. Irvine went to buy sodas; he came back to see Selphie, sprawled across the bed, the treasures of the small wooden box displayed before her.

He sat beside her on the bed, examining her awestruck face. She looked up at him, and incredulous smile on her face. She was paging through the little journal, which appeared to be nothing more than a store record; but on the page she had paused at was a childlike scribble, and beneath it the words: _Selphie, age two. Papa's pen._

"That was me!" she said, her voice soft with disbelief. "Look at this!"

Irvine smiled. He reached over to the picture frame, squinting his eyes to see beneath the cracked glass.

"This is them, huh?" A woman and man stood holding a small baby; the woman certainly had Selphie's eyes. The man's face was hidden beneath a crack in the glass.

"I guess so," Selphie said, stifling a yawn. "I don't believe this."

"Believe it or not, pretty girl, I'm tired," Irvine said, echoing her yawn. "You ready for bed?"

"There's no way I'm going to sleep," Selphie said, bouncing. "I finally have the keys to my past! Oh, Irvine!" She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed. "Thank you, thank you!"

"For what?" he asked laughing. "I didn't do anything."

"For being there," she said, a little shyly. "I guess. For giving me the memories you did. Whatever. I need to thank somebody!"

"Well, thank away," Irvine replied, spreading his arms wide. "I love praise."

"Don't I know it." She stuck her tongue out and began to carefully put her treasures back in their box. She paused as she gazed down at one crackling photograph.

"Even if I never get anything else..." Her voice trailed off as she smiled. "At least I have this."

Irvine pondered to himself as Selphie changed for bed. He had never really felt the desire to look up his family, find out exactly who they were; but then again, he remembered them, remembered what had happened. He didn't want to go back to that fire. But Selphie - could he find her parents? Was there a way? Maybe Matron - Edea - would have some information. Maybe there was a clue hidden in the box.

He grinned at his own secret plan. _Super-spy Irvine Kinneas hunts down girl's family._ He'd probably have to figure out how to work a computer. But maybe it could be done.

Selphie climbed into bed, cuddling up next to him; he put his arm around her as she rested her head on his chest. "Vin," she said into the darkness, "thanks for coming with me."

"Any time, silly," Irvine said as he automatically kissed the top of her head. "Any time."

He stared at the dark ceiling introspectively. Why had he never bothered looking up his own family? He had been decently close to his foster family, though not as close as Zell or Selphie, apparently. Would they have had any clues about his real family and where they came from?

It had never really mattered for him. A cowboy without a home. No past to dwell on. His family had been the orphanage, in the back of his mind. He had come to terms with the family he lost and had adopted the brothers and sisters he had gained.

And that was part of the reason it had hurt so much.

_Oh, give it up, Irvine._ His world had fallen apart when no one had remembered him. As he put the pieces together and realized that no one else was doing the same. No one else even had a clue. Not a clue.

But he had held that world together until he couldn't take it anymore; Selphie's troubled face at Trabia's destruction had made him blurt it all out.

His thoughts turned briefly to Trabia. He wondered what Selphie's fundraiser would be able to provide. He wondered how Zell was dealing with his classes. He wondered about Quistis's mission. He wondered if Rinoa was a SeeD yet and if Squall had quit his job as Commander.

Boy. His mind was quite rambunctious tonight. While he was wondering, he tried to picture himself as an Instructor. It worked, kind of. He was still wearing his beloved cowboy hat. Irvine grinned at himself in his mind and tried to add two lovely women, one on each arm. They both came out looking like Selphie, so he wiped out one of them and kissed the other.

Faintly he began to wonder if he was awake or asleep.

Tomorrow they would start looking around Trabia, talking to the students - figuring out what was the best area to throw money at. They'd have to be on the alert for wandering Grats, however. Irvine pictured himself, following Selphie, picking off the monsters with his gun while she chattered to her old friends, oblivious. He then pictured that stuffy Headmaster Shain approaching and asking them to do an undercover investigation. Super-spy Irvine Kinneas told him no, and then a Grat jumped out of nowhere and chewed on his head.

Right. He was definitely on the verge of sleep. Ludicrous dreams were a sign of exhaustion.

Selphie twitched and murmured something, curling up closer. Irvine wiped all of the pictures out of his head and held her closer.

His last conscious thought was of Selphie's locket. He hadn't even checked if there was a picture inside.


	18. Eighteen: reconstruction

  
  


_Hola._

_I know I promised earlier, but I haven't had a good time with the internet service at my apartment, so it's been a little rough the past week or so. I'm at home right now, so I have access. But my connection at the apartment won't be set up until Wednesday (we hope, we hope), so the next installment won't be until at least then if not Thursday. I wrote a lot this time, however, since all I could do was write; I just hope it's decent writing._

_The end of the story is in sight; I actually skipped ahead and wrote it this afternoon. I like it a lot - but what authors don't like their own work?! There will be twenty-one chapters in this story (yeah, i know, it's a friggin novel), and then the tale is over._

_So keep in touch. I'll hopefully be a little more frequent and reliable in the future, and I apologize that this has taken so long (believe me, I'm peeved at those Internet people)._

_Enjoy!_

  
  
  
  


Chapter Eighteen

Reconstruction

  
  
  
  


The morning, bright and early, struck through the window with the force of a minor missile. Irvine groaned and rolled over, attempting to shield himself from the blast with a pillow. However, lost in cloudy confusion, he groped around and eventually noticed that what he was trying to pull over his eyes was stuck on something - 

"Hey!" Selphie squealed, waking up suddenly and (predictably) grouchily. "That's my arm, you bloody idiot!"

"Mmph." Irvine decided that the sunlight was not only bright, but loud, and cruel in the mornings. He rolled over.

"Fine then." Selphie stretched, knocking him in the nose, and crawled out of bed. "Go ahead, wake me up and then go back to sleep. I don't THINK so!"

_Thud._ A heavy pillow flattened itself across Irvine's face.

The cowboy suddenly realized that it wasn't the sunshine that was being mean, it was Selphie, in their single bed, in Trabia, in the morning. He groaned beneath the stuffy pillow lying across his face.

"Good morning, sunshine," Selphie said in a sickly pleasant voice. "Super duper morning! Come on, get up get up get up!"

Irvine stuck his tongue out, and belatedly realized (with the taste of pillow in his mouth) that it was a useless gesture. He knocked the pillow from his face, spitting fuzz as he sat up. Selphie chortled.

"I'm gonna make you sleep on the couch," he said, shaking a warning finger.

"_What?_" Selphie looked playfully indignant. "You're the one who started it! YOU tried to pull my arm off."

"I thought you were a pillow."

There was a brief pause as Selphie tried to figure out what Irvine meant by this.

She burst out laughing. "You're an idiot in the morning. You thought I was a pillow?"

"Well, I ...um ... oh, forget it." Irvine smiled groggily at her. "I'm tired, alright?"

"You're _dumb_." Selphie launched herself out of bed.

"I love you too, sweetie-kins," Irvine called to her back.

They got ready for the day and set out together - Selphie energetically, Irvine a little grumpily - to check out the reconstruction plans. Selphie ran all about, talking to people she knew, throwing out hellos and hugs to pretty much everyone she came across. They found a sizeable crowd of students poring through what apparently used to be the library. Selphie pitched right in, and Irvine - laughing somewhat at her exuberant example - joined her.

It wasn't the easiest work. The library had been full of antique towering bookshelves, which had splintered under the weight of the ceiling, which had collapsed inward into the library when the missiles had hit. Apparently the exterior had contained large marble pillars as well, for big cracked blocks of marble remained, scattered amid the splinters of shelves and shards of books, covered with the dust of cement and insulation and the wrath of the Trabian storms.

The students at the job were a little lackluster, obviously; Irvine was sure they'd rather be out in the field, or hitting each other with weapons, or even in class - no one here was getting any sort of SeeD credit, he was sure. He glanced around, curious. There were maybe two dozen students in the library - a sizeable amount until you thought that perhaps they were the only students left here. The orphans, like Squall and Quistis, finding their refuse in Garden. Those who lived too close or too far to transfer anywhere else. The ones who were stuck with the remains while their friends moved on, forgot the past. 

The task at hand was just one part of a larger job, Irvine realized - one that was going to be tough even for tough Headmaster Shain. His only work force was composed of students too bitter at being left behind in the ruins to take much initiative. The qualifications of his administrative force were only that they were too injured or crippled to assist in the rebuilding. And Irvine had no idea how Shain was funding it all - had he been able to pick up some Shumi sponsors? Had some of Trabia's investments remained after the collapse? Or was he using some gigantic credit card with obscenely good terms?

But what else could Shain do? Close Trabia down for good? Irvine could tell that deep down inside the Headmaster really loved his Garden and cared about its renewal. But this - this little sundry pecking force wasn't going to do the trick. One by one, these students would leave. The little strength Trabia had remaining would drain and dwindle until all that remained were withering marble pillars and an empty trailer.

Trabia needed a hand at more than rebuilding - they needed revitalization. 

Irvine looked up from his thoughts to see a bright yellow speck in the middle of the desolate mess - Selphie was taking control of the situation.

"Okay, here's how we're gonna do this!" She hauled herself up to the top of a large chunk of marble as she yelled; one by one heads turned to look at her, standing up in the middle of the mess. "First we're going to get rid of these marble pieces. Move them all onto the trucks and take them out behind the basketball field. Those of you who can't carry the marble, start with the big pieces of wood. Work together, guys! It'll make this super easy!"

She now had everyone's undivided attention. "After we get rid of all the big stuff, we're going to sort through the books. Divide them up into piles - ruined and good condition - and then sort the good ones out, fiction, non-fiction, and reference. Someone has to find us some big, waterproof plastic containers to keep the books in until the new library gets set up. Okay?"

Selphie looked around her, nodding at each student - and then threw her hands up in the air. "Make sure you put all the wood from the bookshelves in one big pile so we can have a bonfire tonight to celebrate!"

A cheer went up from the students - a small cheer, yes, but strong for the number of mouths present.

And they got to work. The older boys (and a couple girls wanting to prove their strength) got together and worked on lifting the marble chunks into the few pick-up trucks Trabia had rented. After the first load was taken and dumped - "My back thinks we should stop now," Irvine groaned, "and that's only the first one" - they set themselves to rigging a lift-and-pulley system. After a few false alarms - "Holy Hyne, get out of the way, it's going to flatten your feet!" Ran screamed happily at an older student - they figured out an efficient way to control the marble. _A round of applause to trial and error,_ Irvine thought with a strained grin as he pulled on the rope. But once the system was in place, the marble began to magically vanish. A couple more girls wandered over, wanting to pull rope and stare at Irvine. Selphie hid a giggle behind her hand.

She had taken most of the younger students and was organizing a stick-gathering competition; she had staked off an area for her planned bonfire and was helping to gather the larger chunks of dilapidated bookshelf. The shelves were so splintered that most pieces were easily carried by one person - even one as small as Selphie, though she was strong for her size. Occasionally she found some larger pieces and called for a few of the girls she knew to come and help her haul. The pile for the bonfire grew and grew.

"Whew!" Selphie said, wiping her forehead with one hand and reaching for the offered glass of lemonade with the other. "With this much wood, we can have bonfires for a week!"

"Or one giant bonfire," offered Lilia, a tall, strongly-shaped blond with an infectious grin, who had made the lemonade.

"We'll take out the rest of Trabia," Selphie said with a wicked cackle.

"But imagine the blaze," Lilia murmured.

"Booyaka!" Selphie stuck out her tongue, cracking a goofy smile. "I like fire."

"Oh, great," Irvine said, approaching from behind to suavely steal the lemonade; "don't you go burning things again, Seff."

"But it's sooooo much fun," Selphie whined. 

The work continued to improve. While there was still a lot of marble to be moved, most of the northern half had been cleared of both marble and wood. Selphie sent a team of students there to gather books together; Rass, one of the younger and more surly students, had surprised her by producing several large plastic containers like she had mentioned. "Super!" she had squealed, and then promptly put him in charge of the book-sorting. "You know, separate them by whether or not they're readable," she said with a grin. "The ones that aren't worth saving should probably go in the bonfire - although it's a real shame to burn books - give them their own pile for now. Everything else, you know what to do with. I'll think about what to do with the ruined ones." She picked three other students seemingly at random; "Commander Rass, this is your mission team. Get to work!"

The young boy gave her a sloppy salute and started to give out orders in a manner much more like Selphie's than the stubborn, curt tone they had seen earlier.

They worked for a while, retiring for a brief lunch in the cafeteria. Most of the students were sore; the older ones coyly traded backrubs with each other while some of the younger ones took brief naps. Selphie went around, making sure no one was hurting too badly, giving out Cura spells when bruised muscles were too much to take. Irvine stretched and thought wickedly of talking Selphie into giving him a backrub. He had to settle for a brief smile as she walked past, however.

Soon they all went back to the library-field. Selphie cleaned up the last of the large wood pieces and set herself and her team to helping young Rass with the books. She listened intently - with a sparkle in her eye - as Rass explained the system he was using for book-sorting. She made a few tactful suggestions and then threw herself into the task.

Meanwhile, Irvine was supervising the last couple marble transports (under Lilia's watchful and appreciative eye). There had been a panicked moment when one of the ropes had snapped, but short and wispy Yasmine saved the day with a quickly-summoned Float spell, much to everyone's surprise. Other than that, the move had been quite successful. Irvine sighed a grateful and exhausted sigh as the last truck pulled around the corner.

"I know I shouldn't say something like this," a deep voice said, "but _damn._ _Holy Hyne._ What did you guys do?"

Irvine turned to see Headmaster Shain, impressed, looking out over the clearing that had been a pile of rubble. The students who had been in charge of the marble were - instead of slipping away one by one, like Shain had expected - rejoining the group to help in the book-sorting. Selphie was calling out cheerful orders and (very randomly) yelling "_Super!"_ as she always did. The other students were asking her advice gladly, contributing their help and expertise. Apparently book-sorting was not the easy job it sounded like; there was always the question of whether this book was ruined, you can read all the pages except the first and the last, which are kind of blurry; or whether this book should get saved, it's in pretty bad condition but I know it's not from the fire, I had to do a report with it and I couldn't read anything; or whether this book can get thrown out, I hated it, I hated it so much (this one from Rass, with a big grin); or whether _Harison's studies of GFs_ or _Why Malboros are Bad_ or _One Hundred and One Tricks for your Chocobo_ are fiction or non-fiction or even reference, because no one has read them. 

Shain watched as the students came to Selphie with their questions and she provided answers, one-by-one, always cheerful, never distracted. "She's good," he said finally, as if admitting it to himself.

"Of course," Irvine said, almost insulted. "She's brighter than everyone takes her for. Besides," he said, softening his voice, "she loves this place more than anything, I think. This is an apology for her - she's sorry she left."

Shain raised an eyebrow. "Surprising," he said. "Most of the students are glad to walk out of this place."

Irvine gave a bitter laugh. "That's not it. I'm sure she's grateful that she wasn't there for the missile disaster. But while we were all out saving the world - fighting off sorceresses and armies and Lunatic Pandoras - I think Seff would have felt just as useful being here and helping with the rebuilding."

Shain gave Irvine a look - long and intense, as if he were trying to read the cowboy's mind. Irvine's eyes were clear beneath his black hat. "Well," the Headmaster said finally. "I'm not going to make you two help - but I appreciate it. We all appreciate it. I've been trying, but it's so hard." He raised his hand to rub his forehead, nervous and worried, a piece of his poise suddenly falling away and revealing a young man not much older than Irvine. "I somehow have to come up with the - funds to pay for the rebuilding - Trabia doesn't have a lot of money left. I have to feed these students, and find suitable teachers for them - let alone the reconstruction. And all those negotiations have been taking up so much of my time that I can't be - can't be out here as much as I'd like to. I stay in my little office on my little phone and try to fight the verbal battles." Shain sighed and dropped his hand, briefly glancing at Irvine. "Someone has to."

Irvine, touched by the Headmaster's genuine concern, gave him a broad grin. "Yeah, sometimes it's good to be out here and working with your hands," he admitted. "But I think it's obvious that you care about this place. You do what you can." He shrugged. "It is, in fact, your job."

Shain laughed. "Yes, true. Sometimes I remember back to when I was a cadet - it seems like ages."

Irvine wanted desperately to ask his age; but Selphie approached them, wiping dust from her hands. "Hey, Headmaster, I told them we could have a bonfire with what's left of the bookshelves - that's okay, right? I remember we had some when I was here, so I figured it was okay."

Shain nodded in greeting. "Of course. Look at what you've done here - if all you're asking for is a bonfire, I'm the lucky one. I should be paying you."

Selphie stuck out her tongue, forgetting momentarily that Shain was the Headmaster here. "If you paid me, I'd only donate it back to Trabia," she said haughtily, and then spoiled the effect by sticking out her tongue and yelling, "Booyaka!"

The bonfire that night was a spectacular success. There was actually enough wood present for three or four sizable bonfires, but Selphie liberally divided it up into two large piles and then - with her flair for dramatics and love for big explosions - ignited them both with a steady stream of Firaga spells she could only have pulled off with her Limit Break. The students were immensely pleased with the fire and spent the evening happily toasting anything that came within reach (including one older boy's hair, which did not please Selphie at all; luckily Yasmine, always fast with magic, doused him with a Water spell before anything too drastic occurred). Lilia vanished with two of her friends, only to reappear with two gigantic speakers and a slim little laptop; they rigged up the sound system, and the Trabian students danced the night away.

"This is the happiest they've been in a while," Headmaster Shain admitted to Irvine. The two men were standing in the back with a couple of the older Trabian employees, sipping beers with Cassie and a couple of the other office workers.

Irvine was watching Selphie do a goofy dance with Ran, who adored her. She had been dancing with the students all night; Irvine had been trying to catch her eye, but she only winked at him and continued to dance.

"Selphie's good at happy," he said finally; it wasn't something he had meant to say, but he meant it nonetheless.

The next day dawned in much the same fashion; Selphie leapt out of bed with surprising energy and headed downstairs. Irvine lazily headed for the cafeteria - for he was sure that in her excitement Seff would never remember to eat anything - and then followed the sounds of cheering and yelling until he found her. She was trying to get the students to help her again; they were venturing into the basement this time to examine the damage to Trabia's old storage facilities.

"Oh, hey," she said, a smile lighting up her face as Irvine handed her a donut. "We're gonna take apart the basement today!"

_Seff, isn't this supposed to be a vacation?_ Irvine nodded at her, smiling at her exuberance.

Her smile fell slightly. "You don't have to help, sweetie. But I'm going to go down and see what I can do, alright?"

Irvine shook his head. "Of course I'll help, silly."

"Oh!" Selphie's hands flew up to her neck, where her two silver lockets hung. "Will you do me a favor - take these back to the room?" She unclasped them and carefully removed them. For a moment, they rested in her palm, shining in the sun; then Selphie gracefully placed them in the cowboy's gloved hand.

"They keep catching on things, and I don't want them to get broken or lost somewhere," she explained. "Thanks so much!"

Irvine watched as Selphie stuffed the rest of the donut in her mouth with a foolish grin and carefully picked her way down the remains of the stair case into the basement.

Pensively, he headed back to the room. Selphie was really pretty dedicated to Trabia, when it came down to it. If all of the students had one tenth of her determination ... _damn._ Irvine whistled to himself. He had been hoping for a nice, relaxing week, something more like the day they had spent at the Devron house. Not that he minded working. Not that he minded helping Sefie. But it would have been nice to, you know, take a break. Spend time with Selphie and just Selphie - time they hadn't really had in a while.

_Jealous of a Garden - you're pathetic, Kinneas, pathetic._

An idea coming to him, he stopped in the cafeteria and took a stack of napkins. He seated himself in the corner and started to polish the lockets; Selphie's nervous habit of clutching at the ornaments had left them tarnished with fingerprints. The newer locket cleaned up quite nicely, the oil coming off easily. The older locket wasn't as easy, though; its stains were a little more ancient, and the napkin kept catching on one of the tiny hinges and ripping. 

Intrigued, Irvine tried to undo the little clasp. The locket didn't budge.

_Ah well,_ he said, turning it over carefully in his hand and beginning to carefully polish the other side, making tiny circles with the soft cloth napkin. _Stupid thing keeps ... snagging ... _ He tugged at the napkin viciously and was really rather surprised when the locket gave up and fell open in his hand.

Shocked, Irvine turned it over. The right-hand side apparently had once held a picture. All that remained were a couple scraps of paper, one long strip tucked into the small frame; but after the dangers of time and war and fire and Selphie's childhood fingers, the fact that anything remained was a tribute to the locket's strength. Then Irvine's eyes fell onto the left-hand side. Something was written there - engraved in a careful script.

_Sophia R. Miora._

Incredulous, Irvine absently began to polish at the words; and that's how he found that there was a date as well, beneath the name, hidden by tarnish and time. _12 May '54._ Staring and thinking, the cowboy continued to rub at the silver, fingers making tiny precise movements. The motions died to nothing as it sank in.

_Sophia Miora. Is that Selphie's mother?_

"Hey, there you are."

Irvine looked up at the familiar voice; it was Lilia, crossing the cafeteria, a little friendly smirk on her face as she looked at Irvine the way women always looked at Irvine. "I saw you running away," she said, teasing. "How come you're allowed to leave when we all have to work?"

"No one's making you," Irvine said absently, glancing back down at the locket. Maybe he had just imagined the letters, and when he looked back, the clue would have vanished - but no, the graceful script still shone out from the now-polished surface.

"Hey, whatcha got?"

Lilia pulled a chair up next to him and bent forward, looking at the locket. "That's beautiful," she said breathlessly, and picked it up gently. "And ancient. Is it ...?"

"It's Selphie's," Irvine said quickly.

"Ah." Lilia paused, awkwardly, as if she were just now realizing the connection between Irvine and Selphie ... "Is Sophia her real name then?"

"No." Irvine shook his head and bent to look at the locket again. "It's her mother's name ...I think. The locket was her mother's. I'm hoping that this is her mother's name and birthday."

"Why are you hoping?" Lilia asked softly as she turned the locket over in her palms.

Irvine chuckled. "Well, Seff - Seff and I are orphans."

"I'm so sorry." Lilia covered her mouth as if she had offended him.

The cowboy shrugged. "Not a big deal, really, we've known our whole lives - nothing drastic. But Selphie's been trying to find clues to her past ..."

"And here she is, wearing one," Lilia said, giggling. "So you're going to trace it?"

"I'd like to," Irvine said, the seeds of a surprise forming in his mind. _If I could find out where she's from ... with this _and_ the name Tilmitt, I should be able to find something ... right?_

He shook his head, tossing his ponytail over his shoulder. "But I'm not really sure where to look."

"Heh." Lilia stood up, clasping the locket in her hand. "Come on, then. We'll go on the Internet."

"Can you do that?" Irvine asked as he followed her.

Lilia laughed pleasantly. "Are you kidding? Genealogy is one of the most popular things on the net nowadays. We can get a company that does it professionally to look it up, if you're willing to pay a little. Otherwise we'll have to go through ourselves."

"I don't mind paying," Irvine said. "I don't know how to do it myself - I'm bonked when it comes to computers."

Lilia laughed. "Well, I can get you set up with a service, then."

They headed into the dorms; Lilia unlocked a door, saying to Irvine over her shoulder, "It's kind of messy, you'll have to excuse me." And then, with a laugh as she stepped in: "I don't normally have guys up here, you know."

Irvine scanned the room - clothing strewn all over the chairs and one side of the couch, including a couple more intimate items - and had to laugh. "That's alright."

Lilia led him through what she affectionately called "the disaster area" and into a smaller room. This one was immaculately neat; one desk, with three nice stacks of paper, and the laptop computer.

"Pull up a chair," she called, lifting the screen of the laptop and plugging it in. Irvine searched wildly for a chair that didn't have bras and underwear all over it; unable to find one, he gingerly just entered the room and stood.

"Right." Lilia was peering at the screen, her eyes narrowed. "Now what do you want - a family tree? A history?"

"Anything I can get," Irvine said, excited. "I mean, I don't know a lot about the Internet, but ..."

"Let's try this," Lilia said, clicking through screens. "It's at least a company name I know of. A friend of mine did this a little while ago; she said they send you this cute little personalized report and everything."

"Brilliant," Irvine said. "So like, what do we need to do?"

"Here." Lilia opened a screen. "Looks like we just enter all the information we have and then submit it. Here's how much it costs," she said, pointing at the screen. "You can do a single search for this much -" she stabbed with a finger "- or a double search for this much, if you want to look for both of you."

"I want a double search," Irvine decided. "But not for me. One for _Tilmitt_ and one for the name in the locket, okay?"

Lilia grinned, biting her lip. "Bingo. Okay, enter name..."

Irvine opened the locket again, bursting with excitement. "First name: Sophia. Middle Initial, R. Last name, Miora, m-i-o-r-a. What next?"

"Place of birth?"

"Oh." Irvine's heart fell. "I don't know it."

"That's alright," Lilia said casually. "We'll just leave it blank and hopefully they'll find it for us. What else do you know?"

Irvine squinted at the locket. "Do you think this is a birthdate?"

Lilia leaned in to get a better look. "I'd say so," she said. "It could be a wedding day..."

"...but then it would say Tilmitt, right?" Irvine finished for her. "Unless the locket belongs to someone completely random."

"I'll put it as a birthdate," Lilia stated. "And we can see what they find. Anything else?"

"I don't have any other information," Irvine admitted. "And the only thing I have for the second search is the last name 'Tilmitt'. Is that enough?"

Lilia's fingers flew on the keyboard. "Should be. These searches are usually pretty good. Alright, submission form done - how do you want to pay?"

Irvine thought for a moment, and then said, "Run it through my Galbadia Garden account."

Lilia began to type, and then had a thought. "Actually ... um ... you may not want to do that."

Irvine blinked. "Why?"

Lilia sighed. "D'you read the news?" she asked, half-jesting. "After the ...um... conflict, a lot of Galbadian accounts are ...under suspicion. I guess there were a lot of orders that were corrupt - the payments never went through. Something happened with a big Galbadian bank - not that they lost money, but that some employees were caught up in a giant fraud scheme? Not saying that yours is corrupt," she added hastily. "But they'll have to check and double-check, and it'll take time. Do you have anything else?"

Puzzled, Irvine said simply, "Then put it through on my Balamb account."

"He says, casually," Lilia snorted as she inputted the information. "Wish I had enough money for two bank accounts."

"Oh, like they're full," Irvine retorted; they grinned at each other, co-conspirators.

"Here," Lilia said, gesturing at the screen. "Enter all your contact info so they can mail you what they find."

Luckily for Irvine, the directions on the screen were clear and simple - _Name, account number, address_ - and he easily filled them out without looking like a fool.

"So like ... what happens now?"

Lilia scanned through the receipt screen. "You'll get the information mailed to you in Balamb in about five days, it says. They're assigning you a personal case worker. If you're not satisfied with what you get, you can contact someone about further research or a refund."

Irvine gave her a huge grin. "Thank you so much," he said.

"It's exciting," Lilia said, replying with a grin of her own. "And besides, we missed most of the day's work, check it out."

"Ugh," Irvine groaned. "Selphie's gonna be pissed!"

But Selphie had barely noticed they were gone; she was too busy delving into the depths of the basement, in which they had found storage rooms, rotten provisions, the remains of the laundry facilities, six Grats, a dead T-Rexaur, and three marble pillars from the library. When Irvine came up behind Selphie and put his arms around her, she jumped a foot into the air and squealed.

"Oh, you scared me, Vin," she said.

Puzzled, Irvine looked at her as she turned back to the ruins. No _where have you been all day_, no _I was looking for you._ No _I missed you._ Nothing.

_Then again,_ Irvine thought, _she was concentrating on Trabia. I guess that's a good enough excuse. Trabia needs more help than I do._

But the funny little twinge in his heart wouldn't go away.

"Hey," Selphie called over her shoulder. "Take a look at what I found. What do you think it is?"

_Or maybe she's distracted,_ Irvine said, smiling as he went to follow her into the small hollow. _I'll just have to save my surprise for later, when she's not preoccupied with anything else._

The next couple days continued in the same strain; Selphie woke up every morning and threw herself into whatever project she had chosen for that day, with a quick peck on the cheek for Irvine. The cowboy spent a lot of his time helping her; but he also wandered, patrolling Trabia, talking to the students he found. Selphie was so absorbed in Trabia that he almost felt forgotten - but their visit was almost over, he knew, and he could have her all to himself after that. He didn't really begrudge Trabia Selphie's attention. The poor Garden needed Selphie, and the students loved her.

Plus, he had such a surprise coming (hopefully) that he could wait a couple days.

Headmaster Shain approached him on their last day; Irvine was leaning against the wall, watching Selphie and a few students load the remains of the marble onto a couple trucks. Selphie had experienced a brainstorm over the marble; she called up a house-building company and offered it to them at a premium price. The pieces would never be good for pillars again; but the small chunks were perfect for marble trim, and they were still of high quality. The company had offered to come and pick up the supplies; Selphie had given the check to Headmaster Shain.

"Get a cup of coffee with me?" Shain said to Irvine now, his deep voice appearing out of nowhere beside the cowboy. Irvine tipped his hat in greeting and nodded.

"I want to ask you something," Headmaster Shain said over two mugs of steaming coffee; the two men sat in a booth in the cafeteria, across from one another. Irvine had come to respect the man over the last week, though he was still an odd character; now Shain idly stirred the coffee before him, obviously organizing words in his head.

"I figured as much," Irvine said. His coffee was black.

Shain gave him the small Headmaster grin. "You know they've assigned someone else to your subterfuge case," he said conversationally. "They're taking care of it, in case you were worried. You guys won't have to do it when you get back."

"That's good."

"But not what I wanted to ask you." Shain smiled. "Really, it's not you I want to ask, but Selphie's barely had a word with anyone who isn't Trabia Garden for the past week, so..."

"Don't I know it," Irvine said, laughing. 

"Would she be interested in taking on the project?" Shain asked suddenly.

Irvine blinked. "What project?"

"Trabia." The Headmaster took a sip of coffee, setting it down thoughtfully. "She's done so much this week, and the students have never worked this hard. I'm willing to put Reconstruction entirely in her hands - if she's interested."

"But what about ...?"

Shain shook his head. "I don't have enough time to do reconstruction _and_ all these administrative duties very well," he said. "It'll leave me free to get funding and support and new Instructors and Administrators and Lunch Ladies and only Hyne knows what else. And I'll pay, in addition to her SeeD salary."

Irvine blinked.

"It's a job offer," Shain said. "For both of you, if you're interested. Will you consider? And talk with Selphie?"

Irvine blinked again. "I ...yes, of course," he said hastily. "I know that Selphie just took her Instructorship at Balamb; I really don't know what her plans are. She was teaching when we were called off on mission. I don't know if she wants to go back, or ...or what," he finished, somewhat lamely.

"If she's worried about losing the cert," the Headmaster offered, "I'll let her teach a small class here so she can stay active. I won't let it expire on her if that's what she wants, don't worry."

"I'll ask her," Irvine said, and the Headmaster nodded and took his leave. Irvine remained seated, smiling vaguely at the 'waitress' as she refilled his coffee.

What an awesome opportunity for Selphie - for both of them, really. This was quite a job, a once-in-a-lifetime chance to lead something new and spectacular.

But Irvine was afraid.

_I really am jealous of a Garden,_ he thought, laughing at himself. But Selphie at Trabia was a different Selphie. No, not different - but busier, distracted. Efficient. Driven.

Maybe it was because their time here was running out? Maybe if she had a job that she didn't have to worry about losing, she'd be a little more reasonable? Look around once in a while? Remember that Irvine existed?

_That wasn't fair,_ Irvine told his inner self sternly.

_You know it's true,_ his inner self replied wickedly.

He stared into his coffee cup as if it would give him the answers to all his questions. Now he had two surprises for Selphie. He'd have to wait until they got back to Balamb to let her know. And then he'd get a night to think on it.

Could he really ask her to stay behind? To stay with him and teach and do nothing else important - nothing but being with him? Or ask her to bring him along for Reconstruction - be close to him throughout that as well? That wasn't fair to her. Selphie was selfless and kind and giving, and she would never settle knowing there was a job out there that wasn't getting done. Irvine bit his tongue. He would tell her about the opportunity and wait for her reaction. And then if she asked, he could say something. 

Two surprises. Irvine chuckled a dark chuckle, downed his coffee, and headed back outside.

_stay tuned ... next chapter's a doozy ... coming by the end of the week, or else i'll shoot someone!  
take care.  
7th_


	19. Nineteen: dreams and wishes

  
  
_i apologize.  
this whole me-getting-internet ordeal has been a horrible nightmare. this story is actually close to finished, and i've finally decided to just post it from work. it's ri-damn-diculous to make the few people who are actually still interested in this wait for my internet provider to pull its head out of its ... yeah.  
i simply want to apologize for taking so long with this. it's not my fault, as if that matters. it still sucks. hopefully i can get the next chapter up by the end of the week or so.  
thanks for all the comments and for waiting while i was indisposed.  
enjoy._  
  
  
  


Chapter Nineteen

dreams and wishes

  
  


"La-la-la-aa-aa," sang Selphie, in the Ragnarok's cockpit. "Why you so quiet, Irvy?"

Irvy smiled out the window. _I know something you don't. Two things, in fact._ But if he let that slip - even just a little - Selphie would be on him like snow on the Trabian ground. And Selphie Tilmitt was relentless.

"Just thinking," Irvine said finally. "It'll be nice to get back to Balamb and relax for a while."

Selphie gave a gasp of mock horror. "No relaxing for you, young man! You promised to help me with the Festival!"

_Shit._

He had forgotten all about the Festival. 

_Just what I need - more competition for Selphie's attention._ Irvine drummed his fingers on the dashboard in an absent rhythm. _ I need to get her alone for a little bit - at least to talk to her about Trabia - damn, to talk to her about anything! And this won't help at all._

Selphie was chattering on about her ideas; Irvine forced himself to focus. _You're whinin' like a baby, Kinneas,_ he told himself. _Grow up and learn some responsibility._

" ...what do you think?" Pause. "...Vin?"

He shot Selphie a sheepish smile. "Sorry, babe, I didn't catch that."

"You seem distracted," Selphie said softly, her eyes still straight ahead.

"A little. I'm sorry, babe. Run that past me again and we'll figure something out."

Selphie, however, showed no desire to repeat herself. "What's on your mind?" she asked, biting her lip as she aimed the ship through a particularly tricky batch of turbulence over the ocean.

Irvine shrugged. "Nothing to trouble you with, darlin'. Don't worry."

"Vin..." Selphie slowed the ship down to look at him. "I ...I know I talk a lot," she said, giggling nervously. "But you know you can always talk to me, right? If there's something on your mind - you just tell me to shut up, okay?"

Irvine laughed. "Easier said than done, sweetheart."

Selphie stuck out her tongue and flipped the Ragnarok upside down. 

Irvine, unprepared, slouched half out of his seat; he grabbed the armrests with a death-grip, cursing loudly, pulling himself back into his seat as she righted the ship, and trying desperately to look more angry than amused. _That was a pretty good move._

"Hmph," Selphie said smugly. "Don't insult the driver."

"Point taken," he said, as he fastened his seatbelt. "Crazy woman drivers."

"HEY!" Selphie shot him a glare. "Women are NOT crazy drivers."

"Oh, so it's just you?"

Another glare, playful this time. "Don't you make me flip this ship again."

They returned to Balamb without any further incidents; Irvine gathered up their luggage as Selphie shut down the ship's controls and activated all the security locks. They came in through the parking garage, Irvine laughing as Selphie berated him for carrying both duffel bags.

" - but it's not like I'm a little girl, I can -"

Irvine drew himself up to his full height; looking down his nose, he retorted, "You are most certainly a _little girl._"

"Shut up!" Selphie poked him playfully. "So I'm short. I can still carry my bag, Vin, you don't have to..."

Irvine rolled his eyes and tightened his grip. "The thanks I get for being a gentleman."

"Cowboys can't be gentlemen," Selphie teased. 

"Yes they can," Irvine insisted. "Cowboys can be perfectly polite and kind and chivalrous. If they want to."

They entered the front lobby - 

"_Selphie!_" The cry went up from a group of students gathered around one of the benches. "Thank goodness you're back - we need to get these forms in - they all need your signature..." Voices clamored over each other as a group of students gathered around a table stood excitedly.

Three girls in SeeD uniforms appeared out of nowhere and latched themselves to Selphie's arm. "You have to see the decorations we picked," one of them exclaimed, "and we got them on discount because it's a fundraiser."

"Ooh, did you get the blue set?" Selphie asked, her eyes lighting up, always contagious with enthusiasm.

"No, but even better," the girl said, dragging Selphie away. "Come and look - we need your signature, since the account's in your name."

"We haven't been able to order _anything,_" the other girl scolded. "And we only have a couple days!"

Selphie paused to meet Irvine's eyes. "Irvy - um, look, I'll let you know when I'm done with this, okay?" And she vanished.

Irvine stood in the front lobby, slightly disconcerted. He should have felt grateful to be excused from the squealing girl-fest that was Festival Preparation - but, somehow, he felt a little left out ...

"Nice suitcase, Kinneas."

He spun around to catch Squall's smirking face - ah, yes, he was still death-gripping both duffels: one navy, one bright yellow with flowers. Pink flowers.

"Yeah, I thought I needed something to brighten my wardrobe," he said with a responding smirk, and straightened his hat. "How are things?"

Squall rolled his eyes. "Wonderful."

Irvine, trying to hold back a smile, couldn't help but ask: "Have you been working on the -"

"Festival," Squall grunted. "Hell."

"You sound as pleased as Fujin," Irvine teased.

Squall's thin lips spread in a rare smile. "You just wait, Kinneas, I'm sure you'll get roped in too." He shrugged. "Girls." Then, with a second thought, he pointed a finger; "And yours is in charge of the damn thing."

Irvine snorted. "So like ... I should go hide now, huh?"

Squall smirked. "Maybe. Zell likes it," he offered.

"Heh." Irvine picked up the duffels again and headed for the dorms. "I'll be under the bed, but don't tell anyone."

Squall rolled his eyes again and left.

Irvine trudged happily up to Dormitory Row; he paused in front of Selphie and Quistis's room, rapping on the door with a knuckle. No luck - Selphie was still lost in Festival-Land, and Quistis was either out or still on her mission; which also meant out, but indefinitely. Irvine debated leaving the suitcase in front of the door, but decided against it; and so the yellow bag with the pink flowers ended up on his floor, sitting awkwardly beside the couch as if it knew it didn't really belong.

Irvine laughed at it as he walked past to unpack his things and take a quick shower - he felt all _gummy_ from the morning's travels. Hot water was always the most pleasant feeling in the world; a younger Irvine, wildly angry at his foster family, had threatened to lock himself in the shower and go crazy. Older Irvine, while he knew this wasn't the good idea it had been at twelve, relished the thought of an endless source of hot water. Heat and steam. Fresh scent, rushing water. _Sunshine and citrus._

Selphie in the shower. Dangerous train of thought.

He considered the historical agency. Could they find anything? He'd have to remember to check his mail; he didn't want anything big arriving that would give it away. He wanted to hand it to Selphie himself, to watch her open it up in front of him. Hopefully it would be worth it. Even if it turned out as a bust - they had to get something, right?

Or at least, for what he paid, they'd _better_ come up with a fact or two.

Irvine wondered briefly and idly if all six of them could find their pasts that way. Was it that easy? _Well, that charge on your bill says it ain't that easy, cowboy._ He chuckled. And Squall and Rinoa - well, they knew most of their histories. Rinoa had never really had a reason to forget. And Squall's history had been shoved on him during the course of their travels. Squall, inside his father's head, calling his own dad a goon: priceless.

He got out of the shower, dried off, threw on his favorite outfit. His stomach was complaining loudly that it was empty and shouldn't he be doing something about it? Irvine glanced at the clock - _dinnertime._ Where was Selphie?

Irvine had always felt a little left out of the loop with most of Selphie's chattering, energy-driven committee friends. The boundless dedication to things like Garden Festivals and Class Picnics was something he didn't quite understand; but it was good that some people did, because most of their events turned out rather well. Irvine was much too laid-back to be part of the crazy planning-team that put the things together. Despite Selphie's urgings that "you'd be just perfect for it, now come _on_, pleeeeease" - Irvine tried to stay out of things that involved being horribly kind to a large group of people. Unless it was a large group of women; but even that was a nerve-wracking sort of fun, an agonizing enjoyment that you weren't really sure was worth it. He just didn't have the energy to keep up the charade; tact he had in bundles, but it only gets you so far before you want to club someone over the head with your tact and walk out. 

And this time Selphie had left him out. Irvine felt like ... well, he felt like he _should_ have felt grateful but - he didn't. He had spent the last week caught up in one of Selphie's save-the-world projects; he wanted a chance to _breathe,_ honestly. But here was the chance, and he was already loathing it.

Two secrets, weighing on his mind. And Selphie, gone. As if she cared more about her Festival than...

_Don't finish that thought, Kinneas._

Irvine glanced at the clock again. It _was_ time to eat; and Selphie or no Selphie his poor stomach was going to turn itself inside-out and begin digesting if he didn't hurry. He locked his door (sticking his tongue out at the bright yellow duffel and its pink flowers; the bag managed a small leer as the door closed) and headed down to the cafeteria. 

A loud voice told him where to look, as if the turned heads weren't already enough; Zell was crowing triumphantly over a tray full of hot dogs. The blond martial-artist leaned forward to give all three of the cafeteria workers a big kiss on the cheek (which made them all blush) and then headed for a nearby table. Irvine approached him, grinning. Zell was shameless - incapable of being embarrassed - in fact, he was probably the most _embarrassing_ out of all of them, but in a good way. Zell Dincht didn't think twice about making a fuss and bother over a simple dinner - he let you know how he felt about those hot dogs, yes sir. No confusion about that one. In fact, he and Rinoa had bonded quickly during the long journey - they both wore their hearts out on their sleeve. That and they both threw really good temper tantrums. 

"Planning on sharing?" Irvine asked; Zell looked up, mouth full, and nearly choked.

"Mmmph," he said around the hot-dog, apparently meaning "no, go get your own, jerk."

"Oh really? Thanks, man," Irvine said with a grin, and reached out for a hot dog. Zell, still stuffing face, blocked his grab and slid the tray away, mumbling something about having worked hard for his pay.

Irvine and Zell ate a pleasant dinner, chatting (when Zell took breaks to breathe) about being an Instructor at Balamb and how much work the classes were on the other end. Neither cadet had ever really paid much attention to school, so neither of them had ever really noticed how much work teachers had to put in to stay one step ahead of the game. Zell was wacky enough already; Irvine guessed he'd keep his students on their toes, and make them enjoy it besides. Zell rolled his eyes and confessed to a couple of sleepless nights when he couldn't come up with appropriate quizzes. Irvine snorted.

"You thinking of becoming an Instructor?" Zell asked between bites.

"I don't know," Irvine admitted. "It'll depend." _On Balamb. On my mood. Whether or not it rains that day. How much sleep I get._ _ Selphie. Trabia. The rest of you guys. _

Zell shrugged. "It's fun. I don't wanna say it's easy - cause damn, it's not easy - but it's rewarding. I'm the only one teaching here, now," he said, chomping down on the next victim. "It was more fun with everyone here. But you start to connect with your students, really. It's like - I know what you're going through, guys. And that really makes it cool."

The next couple days were in the same vein. Selphie appeared in random whirlwinds, usually hidden behind groups of committee members or stacks of catalogues; she gave her usual greetings and then vanished into the world of Festival Planning. Irvine relaxed, talked with Squall and Rinoa. Wandered. He went to Zell's class once and was - embarrassingly enough - asked to give a demonstration of his expert aim.

"You suck," he muttered to Zell, after the sixth time the students had made him shoot the apple off of the top of Headmaster Cid's car.

"It'll teach you never to crash my class again," Zell replied with a grin as the students approached with a seventh apple.

"You invited me," Irvine stated, raising the gun to his eye, "and I hate you."

The day before the Festival, a full-size envelope appeared in Irvine's mailbox.

He stared at it for a while, not really knowing what to do. It was surprisingly heavy; Irvine grasped its creamy white surface, slightly amazed at its thickness. He took it into his room, closing the door carefully behind him, and slid one careful finger under the flap of the envelope. Just as carefully, he tipped the envelope until the pages - _pages?_ - inside had partially emerged. On the top was a cover letter, which he carefully removed.

_Dear Mr Kinneas,_

_My name is Raeba, and I have been assigned as your personal case worker for this request. As I'm sure you can see, we have found plenty of information for the names you have included on your search - information that I am excited to share with you. Included in this packet are photocopies of all legal documentation we were able to find for Sophia R. Miora and the Tilmitt family, including birth certificates and the like. This letter will be filling you in with the smaller details I have been able to uncover regarding the family's history. _

His jaw dropped. They _had_ found something - a good deal of something. All that existed of Selphie's history - of her real parents - was now resting on his bed, cautiously emerging from that pristine white envelope as if it were nervous, anxious, self-conscious. Selphie's family history was peeking out from behind the creamy wall, looking at him for assurance.

Just as carefully, Irvine tucked the letter - without finishing it - back into the envelope, folding the flap back down over it. He placed the letter reverently against his pillow - it could rest for a while, he thought anxiously - and took off in search of Selphie.

The cowboy found her, of course, in the first place he could think to look - the empty classroom that had been invaded by the Festival Committee. They were having some sort of meeting, arguing violently about something; all Irvine could hear were three voices invariably shouting colors back and forth at one another. He positioned himself in the doorway and gestured for Selphie to come out.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him, but then flew about the room, taking stock of the situation. _"I'm busy,"_ she mouthed at him, trying frantically to calm her three committee members down. He gestured again, more urgently. _I can't wait._ She shook her head, smiling apologetically, and finally resorting to her tried-and-true method of stopping arguments: she started to shout louder than anyone in the room. Much louder. The three noisy students shut up and looked at her with admiration.

Once normal conversation had resumed, Irvine shifted again to catch her eye; she looked up, and again he gestured for her to come out briefly.

_"I'm almost done,"_ she mouthed. _"I can't leave until this is done;"_ with dramatic pointing at three or four catalogs. _"I'll be out in a sec,"_ she mouthed finally, and turned her gaze back to the meeting.

Irvine nodded understandingly, stepped around the corner, and swore. It would figure. _Selphie's in a meeting, and probably will be all day. And she didn't even ask me for help on this one at all - it's like she's forgotten about me. I wonder if I did something wrong? She hasn't even come to pick up her suitcase._

He leaned against the wall, determined to wait for her, impatience taking over. _This is more important than the Festival, right?_ He started tapping his feet for amusement, listening to the sounds echo through the empty halls. A class let out; bright cadets filtered through the halls. Irvine continued to lean against the wall and think dark thoughts.

Selphie's head poked out, grinning. "Thank Hyne you're here," she said, breathless, "I'm about to hit my Limit and annihilate the room. I could use someone who's on my side - and has a couple brain cells to spare," she muttered under her breath, tossing a glance over her shoulder.

"Er," Irvine said. No, he hadn't come to help - hadn't come to offer support, morale, or even a shoulder to lean on. Guilt leapt up and settled around his shoulders. He firmly shook it off, thinking: _This is much more important. Right?_

"I was hoping you could come with me for a few minutes," he finished lamely.

Selphie blinked, her face falling slightly as she realized that Irvine hadn't come to offer a hand. "You know I can't leave, Vin," she said softly. "The Festival's _tomorrow,_ and we're not done yet." 

Irvine bit his lip; every nerve in his body was screaming at him to drag her away and give her the envelope. "You don't even have a couple of minutes?"

Selphie's eyes closed momentarily. _I'm so tired,_ she thought. _These idiots are exhausting - I'd get more done working by myself - and no one else seems to care. Irvine certainly doesn't._ Gathering together her courage, she opened her eyes and gave him a brilliant smile. "Not right now, Irvy. But the dance is tomorrow, and then it'll all be over."

Irvine saw the lie in her eyes and blinked - 

There was a click in the room behind her and a loud stream of cursing burst out. Selphie's eyes bulged and, with one last squeeze of Irvine's hands, she ducked back into the room.

Irvine stood there, lost in dangerous thought. Finally, reluctantly, he decided on a course of action; the cowboy turned and walked away, heading towards the dormitories.

  
  
  
  


"So everything's set except the arrangements?" Rinoa asked. She and Selphie were _finally_ done with a long day of planning. The young sorceress wondered briefly how her spritely friend put up with it all - she was about to go crazy. It had been nice to get involved, though; but _wow_, these things were a lot of work ...

"Yeah," Selphie chirped, still brimming with energy. "The preliminary sketches are in my room. I'll show you now. We don't have to decide until tomorrow, you know, when the set-up crew gets here. But I totally can't figure it out." She paused to grab the doorhandle, precariously balancing her armful. "I wanted to ask Irvine, too, but I can't seem to find him."

"You don't lock your door?" Rinoa asked as Selphie pushed her way in; the smaller girl's arms were full of catalogs and notes.

"Nope!" Selphie gave her a grin as she threw her stack down on the table. "Quistis always does. I always forget," she said sheepishly. "I forget my keys, that is. And, you know, if anyone wants to steal my old set of nunchucks, they're welcome to it," she continued sarcastically. "There's not a lot in here that's worth money. And all of Quistis's stuff is locked up in her bedroom."

"The bedrooms have their own locks?" Rinoa, intrigued, headed back to look around. "Holy Hyne," she gasped, "my little guest's single is _tiny_ compared to this place! Look at your bloody bathroom!"

"Yeah," Selphie sang out. "The perks of being a SeeD! And an Instructor! And, uh, living with Quistis. She knows the right people. She knows _everybody._"

"Gee," Rinoa wondered out loud as she entered Selphie's bedroom. "Wonder if she knows anyone who could get me a better room?"

Selphie sighed. Her day had been so long, and she _was_ hyped up on energy; but it was the energy of stress, not the pleasant energy she usually filled herself to the brim with. All she wanted to do was collapse - rest her head on Irvine's shoulder and have him tell her that everything about the Festival would work out, that everything would be okay. But Irvine was nowhere to be found. And she tried to tell herself that she wasn't upset about it.

Selphie had just found the correct folder when she heard Rinoa call: "Hey Seff, who's writing you love notes?"

"Huh?" Selphie stood up, heading for her bedroom. "Oh, it's all the guys in love with - oh," she finished suddenly, a little puff of air expelled from her lungs by surprise.

A creamy white envelope was sitting on her bed; paper-clipped to the top of it was a smaller envelope, with _Selphie_ written across it in Irvine's bold script.

"Oh," Selphie repeated dumbly, looking at the pair of envelopes with more than a little fear. _Is Irvine mad at me? Well, I guess he has a right to be. But if he's ...if we're ...but then what's in the big envelope?_

"Ooh, open it," Rinoa ordered. "I'm fanatically nosy."

"It's from Irvine," Selphie confessed, slowly coming to sit on the bed beside her dark-haired friend, still warily regarding the envelopes as if they were going to bite her, or explode, or shrivel up into crumpled paper.

"Even better," Rinoa said giddily; then she noticed the chagrin in Selphie's eyes and asked a little more gently: "What's wrong?"

"I'm afraid," Selphie said softly. "I wonder if Irvine's mad at me. I've been so busy - and he was trying to talk to me today - and I - I guess I kind of blew him off." She closed her eyes, fighting the tears of panic. "What if he..."

"Well," Rinoa said resolutely, "you can't do anything about it now. You'll have to read the letter and then decide. Maybe it doesn't have anything to do with that."

"Yeah right," Selphie said weakly.

Rinoa put an arm around her friend. "Do you want me to stay?" she asked. "I can leave, if you want to be ... alone."

Selphie sniffled. "Let's see what it says."

She reached down, detaching the smaller envelope and opening it with shaking hands. A plain piece of Garden stationary fell into her lap; she picked it up, her hands still quivering, her nervous vision unprepared.

_Selphie,_

_If you're reading this letter, I assume nobody's come and swiped this packet off your bed. I want to tell you a secret; I've been wanting to tell you for days, but you haven't been around, so this letter'll have to do. If you open your locket right now - the one from your parents - you'll see a name engraved inside, the same name I found when we were in Trabia. It's your mother's name. The information inside the packet is from a genealogy company who researched your family. Hopefully it can fill in some of the blanks in your past - I know there are more than a few. I wanted to give it to you myself, but you didn't seem to have time; so feel free to look at it at your leisure, or whatever._

_Irvine_

Selphie dropped the paper as she brought both hands up to her mouth, trying to hold back the giant sobs that were escaping, choking her, choking her with grief and guilt and wonderment and amazement.

"What is it?" Rinoa threw her arms around her friend. "Is he breaking up with you? Is he leaving? Oh, good Hyne, Selphie, don't cry, what's going on..."

"It's -" Selphie swallowed a sob, her shoulders shuddering. "Oh, Rin, he went and looked up - here, just read ..."

Selphie Tilmitt burst into tears.

It was the worst feeling in the world. Not only had she been a real jerk - so busy, pre-occupied with her other things, leaving Irvine out because she figured he wouldn't be interested in choosing the Festival Theme Colors and such; and here he had gone, behind her back, and done this - the sweetest, most precious thing anyone had ever done for her - while she was busy being a real jerk and choosing Theme Colors. How could she ever have -? This was horrible. A horrible state of affairs. How could she take this gift from him, when she knew she had been so much less than a good friend?

_He really didn't seem to care about me - or the Festival - or anything - and I just pretended that everything was okay - and then he - oh, dear ..._

Why wasn't he here, right now, giving her the memories himself like he always promised he would? Why wasn't it _him_ holding her hand, not Rinoa? What had she done that was so horrible?

"Wow, Selphie," Rinoa breathed. "I don't believe it."

Selphie looked down, her hand instinctively reaching up to clasp the two lockets around her neck. Resting in her lap was a white envelope which, apparently, held the key to her past - who she really was. A key that Irvine had tried to give her himself, but...

_Irvy ...why aren't you here?_

"Rinoa," she began gently, not really knowing what to stay. "Will ...will you read it with me?" _I don't think I have the strength to do it alone._

"Of course," Rinoa said, hugging Selphie again. "Here, let's open it."

Rinoa reached forward, gently sliding the pages out of the larger envelope. "Here's the cover letter," she offered gently. "Let's read it." She put her arm around Selphie's quivering shoulders, murmuring to herself as the two girls scanned the letter.

_Dear Mr Kinneas,_

_My name is Raeba, and I have been assigned as your personal case worker for this request. As I'm sure you can see, we have found plenty of information for the names you have included on your search - information that I am excited to share with you. Included in this packet are photocopies of all legal documentation we were able to find for Sophia R. Miora and the Tilmitt family, including birth certificates and the like. This letter will be filling you in with the smaller details I have been able to uncover regarding the family's history._

_Sophia Rebeca Miora was born 12 May '54 in the city of Xanna in Western Trabia. Her parents were Bale Miora and Sophia Kirseth; apparently naming the eldest daughter 'Sophia' was a tradition in the family. What I want to do first is tell you a little about her parents, and then I'll talk about her own family. I've included copies of all the relevant birth certificates in the attached literature._

Selphie's eyes had dried from wonderment. Eagerly, clasping Rinoa's hand as if it were a lifeline, she continued.

_The Miora name, in fact, was quite easy to follow; the Miora family ran a well-established shipping company of sorts in the earlier years. They were famous for the quality of their ships and the speed of their sailing; their shipments always got in on time. Though the business had turned more into administration than the actual sailing, Sophia's father was one of the last of the line to run his own ships. It was on one of his delivery trips that he met the elder Sophia. Not much is known about the Kirseth family; more inquiries can be made using the request form I've included in your information packet._

"Meaning you have to pay for them," Rinoa added sarcastically.

"Oh no," Selphie said suddenly, "how much do you think Irvine paid for this?"

"Shut up and read," Rinoa said cheerfully. "We'll figure it out later."__

_Sophia Miora grew up to be a very energetic woman. Her name is included in much of the charity work done in Northern Trabia during the famous drought of '73. She was quite an activist, always staying involved in community events as well; she held some sort of role on the Town Council. When she was 24 she met Garreth Tilmitt, a shop-owner up north. They were married in '80 and moved to Jessamine, where the famous Tilmitt General Store ran its successful business._

_Garreth and Sophia had three children: Sophia, called Selphie, in '82; Claide, in '84; and Beatrice, in '85._

Selphie dropped the page.

"I have a brother," she whispered to no one in particular. "I have a brother and a sister."

Her eyes glazed over. _How could I have forgotten a brother and a sister?_ she asked the darkness. _How do I forget my family? Can a Guardian Force really do that much - wipe out the entire memory of my existence? My own flesh and blood?_

Rinoa bent down to pick up the paper and replace it in Selphie's now trembling grasp.

_In '85, shortly after the birth of their third child, the Sorceress Wars broke out. Adel's wrath reached far and wide, as we all know. A botched operation in Northern Trabia left a plethora of troops who took it upon themselves to raze the towns. In a large town such as Jessamine, a successful store like Tilmitt's General was an obvious target for goods and supplies. The troops attacked Jessamine at night; both Garreth and Sophia Tilmitt were listed among the casualties. Their three children were sent to various orphanages by the survivors of Jessamine, who could not afford to keep the children after the destruction of their town. I've included all the paperwork I could find on the three Tilmitt children, since you also requested information on that name._

_Sophia - who appears as Selphie on most records - Tilmitt enrolled in Trabia Garden at the age of thirteen; she graduated from Balamb Garden with honors at the age of seventeen. Miss Selphie was a leading figure in the recent Sorceress Conflict; information about her activities are available on public record. _

"Heh, I'm famous," Selphie said weakly, trying to gather the courage to read the next two paragraphs. _Sophia,_ she thought, her mind whirling. _My name's really Sophia. Selphie's a nickname._

_Fia._

_Mum and dad called me Fia._

_They knew._

"Ooh, look," Rinoa said, "your brother's a SeeD as well!"

Selphie's jaw dropped.

_Claide Tilmitt entered Galbadia Garden at the age of thirteen and is currently a SeeD cadet specializing in computers and the crossbow. Beatrice, fourteen years old, lives with a family in Timber and is attending a specialized academy for a career in acoustical engineering at the television station. Contact information for the two can be obtained by filling out and submitting the form included in your packet._

_That appears to be all the information available at this time. If you would like to have me follow up on any of the information I've found for you, we have a special offer; you can read about the deal in the attached page in your packet ..._

There was a long, awkward pause. 

"Shit," whispered Rinoa, who rarely swore.

"Shit indeed," Selphie echoed; and she swore less than Rinoa.

There was another long pause, and then Selphie dropped the paper again and threw herself into Rinoa's arms, and cried: the horribly thick tears that result from a perfect mixture of sadness and joy. Everything was culminating - the life she had lived without her memories, the memories of her mother and father and brother and sister, her real name, her _family_. Selphie cried and cried, as if her life were suddenly an empty hole, and she were trying to fill it up with her tears. Everything suddenly felt _empty_ - she had forgotten a family, a family of five, _everyone's faces_, as she had forgotten her time at the orphanage with the first friends she had ever had. Her life, originally filled with cheer and laughter and the occasional explosion, suddenly seemed drab, colorless even, _empty, forgotten, all empty..._

Everything was so empty. But even in the rush of this void, there was only one thing Selphie wanted: one pair of arms she wanted to feel holding her tight, one voice she wanted to hear more than anything...

The sobs subsided as quickly as they had come, and Rinoa tentatively watched (thinking that perhaps her friend had choked?) as an incredulous look of wonderment passed over Selphie's face.

_"Irvine,"_ Selphie whispered; and then she was gone, so fast that Rinoa blinked, and blinked again, convinced that her friend had vanished into thin air.


	20. Twenty: family

_yes - internet!! i'm back online!_   
  


Chapter Twenty

family

  
  
  
  


Selphie's blood was pounding in her ears, a faint rushing noise that she had attributed to the wind as she ran; but now she had stopped, panting, realizing that Balamb Garden was a really big place and that she had no idea of where to look first.

_Shit,_ she repeated to herself and Quezacotl. _Irvine ... where are you?_

She spun into the first stairwell she could find and headed up, almost knocking two SeeD cadets to the floor as she leapt the steps two at a time. Skidding to a halt in front of Irvine's single, she hit the door with frantic fists: _bambambam._

"Irvine?" she called, her voice quavering as her lungs shook to take in air. Every nerve in her body was on edge; first the stress from the Festival, then the realization that she was the worst best friend ever, then the sudden revelation that she had a _family_ that was still out there; it was a state of alertness unlike any she had ever experienced. Selphie spent most of her life high on energy, but this was a horrible, nervous, dark sort of energy. She realized that it was making her panic, and she tried to breathe deeper.

Irvine wasn't in his room, obviously.

Selphie took off - trying to slow her steps, to pace them - towards the Cafeteria. _Does he think I've forgotten him?_ She discarded the idea of the elevator, taking the stairs _down_ two at a time and then vaulting over the last three, her vision narrowed with guilt and determination.__

_I'll never forget you again. I'll _prove_ it._

Irvine wasn't in the cafeteria either, though a table full of lingering students craving midnight hotdogs gave Instructor Selphie a collection of odd looks as she spun into the Caf, gave it a wild glance, and then left again.

_The Quad. He used to sleep in there,_ she thought wildly, turning the corner. But it was night; the benches were all empty. No reclining cowboy.

_"Bugger,"_ Selphie grunted. She forced herself to pause, breathe. Yes, breathe. This wasn't a mission; there was no Darik, holding a weapon at her throat; there was no emergency.

_Let me give you a memory, Selphie_

"Oh Hyne," she whispered, choking on the memory itself. Irvine's voice. She was a horrible friend, a horrible family for her cowboy. She had to find him.

But - he had given her the memories - and then left. Rode off into the sunset.

"Why weren't you there?" Her whisper echoed through the empty Quad. "Where did you go?"

She hadn't forgotten, but she had - left him out. Inadvertently, but she had. And the first and foremost thing she had learned about Irvine Kinneas was - that he hated to be left out.

His voice again, as if her subconscious wanted to make her feel even more miserable: _It just hurts to be the one on the outside. The only one who really remembers. You've all forgotten what were the happiest days of my life. I don't want... I don't want to get forgotten again._

"Think, Seff," she murmured to herself. "Where would Irvine go ...?"

The second floor balcony? The idea surged through her, but she forced herself to _walk_ it, though she walked so quickly it was almost a sprint in itself. She had to force herself to keep an even pace, to think calmly. She would not beg Quezacotl to just this once let her fly through Garden, although she wanted to.

She passed a couple students in the hall, their guilty faces telling her that they were out after curfew. And while Quistis would have certainly stopped and handed out detentions, Selphie continued to walk, her mind set on the balcony.

She opened the door cautiously, almost certain that he would be there - 

But it was empty as well.

Her heart plummeted. Had Irvine left? Was he even in Balamb at all?

Half an hour later Selphie returned to the Quad, dejected, collapsing on a bench. She had searched _everywhere_ - even the library, which Irvine had never been in at all to her knowledge - and he was _nowhere_. She'd checked his room again, checked the balcony twice. Nothing.

She was running on empty. The tears she couldn't cry were stuck in her throat. He _had_ left her - left her alone to find her family and to run her Festival and to pick up the pieces of -

Then she suddenly heard the faint sound of a guitar playing.

_Who is up this late?_ she asked herself sternly, and then recognized the song. Irvine had played that, in their little apartment in Deling City, the one that she and Quezacotl had made short work of. It was the song she had promised to play for him at some point; she recognized his playing, his little rhythms and finger-hammerings that made the song uniquely his, as any good guitar player could do.

Suddenly very nervous and afraid, Selphie stood up and cautiously headed through the Quad. Irvine was seated on the stage that the two of them had put together in Fisherman's Horizon, the stage for their concert. The first night Irvine had kissed her, she remembered suddenly - under the stars and the beauty of the night, and she had tucked the memory away to keep it precious. It had been swallowed by the urgency of Ultimecia and the frequent use of summons. Quezacotl presented her with it now, very suddenly, as if it were offering an apology; and she choked on a sob, realizing that she had forgotten such a moment.

_So much forgotten. Such a price._

Irvine looked up at the sound, and the song slowly died. They stood there, looking at each other across the long path to the stage, hesitance thick in the air.

"There you are," Selphie whispered finally, and took a couple shaky steps forward. Her legs felt as if they had suddenly realized they'd been frantically running all night; they felt as if they wouldn't hold her for much longer. With a burst of speed she vaulted herself up onto the stage and then lowered herself to the ground softly, facing Irvine.

She was close enough to touch, but he didn't reach out.

Irvine had retreated to the dimly-lit and neglected stage on instinct alone; he wanted to be unfindable. Gritty and determined to grin and bear it - to get over that particular - rejection. He hadn't quite made it; he had planned to be up all night. It would be better in the morning, and he could have looked at Selphie with honest feelings in his eyes.

Unlike now. He couldn't even meet her eye.

_I was a jerk,_ he thought now, staring down at the guitar. _The biggest news of her life, and I just chucked it on her bed and ran. I should've been there, arms around her; she looks like she's been crying all night. I told her I would help her get her memories back._

_I found her past, yes; but I wasn't much _help_._ _Bravery my ass. I got scared of being forgotten and I ran again._

_I took the shot, but I missed. Crumbling under pressure. Dammit._

"Did you..." His voice was unsteady. "Did you read it? What did it say?"

"Oh." Selphie gasped a little, as if his question was a little unexpected. "Oh Hyne, Irvine, I have a _family._ I have a brother and a sister who are still alive. My real name isn't Selphie; it's Sophia. My brother's training to be a SeeD at Galbadia and my sister's in Timber." She sighed and ran her hand through her hair, giving him a rueful smile. "It hasn't all sunk in yet. I feel like - like I've been crying for days."

Irvine attempted a smile in return. "Well, I'm glad - not that you've been crying, but - I'm glad it, er, helped."

And then Selphie crumbled. "Oh, _Irvine,_" she gasped, and threw herself at him; he moved the guitar just in time, for she landed in his lap, face buried in his chest, arms fastened tightly around his waist.

"How could you," she began, and he braced himself for the tirade; but then she broke away to look him in the face. "How could you do something so nice for me when I was being such a horrible person? How could you not _tell_ me that I was a horrible person? Oh, Vin, I'm so sorry, I didn't even think about you, I figured that you'd find the Garden Festival super boring, so I just went off to take care of it all, I thought I'd give you a break. _How could you,_" she finished, pausing for breath. "Next time I am a horrible friend, you need to _tell me._"

Irvine blinked in surprise, but Selphie looked so desolate; he put his arms around her, giving her shoulders a squeeze. "I'm the horrible person, Seff," he admitted. "I just threw that at you and ran. I should've been there, but I ... I panicked ... I thought you were sick of me, so I just left it."

She looked up at him, astounded. "Sick of you? Oh, Hyne, Irvine. I'm so sorry." She looked away. "You must hate me. I'm the most horrible person in the world."

"You are not," Irvine said firmly. "You are my favorite person in the world, and I'm sorry for being a jerk."

_It's fate - we're meant to be together._

Selphie wasn't really sure which one of them had had the thought; at this point, she wouldn't put it past anyone, including her precious GFs, to suddenly summon forth the powers of telepathy as if it were no big deal. But it _was_ fate, and they both knew it - finally.

"Irvine..."

Selphie sighed and looked up at him, those brilliant green eyes brimming with tears.

"Listen. I had no memories until you gave me memories. I had no past until you told me about the past." She sniffled. "And I had no real family until ...until you came back. You helped me find where I came from and where I belong."

She wiped a tear from her face and then looked back up at him. "Don't you see? Irvine, you're my past. You're my family." 

Selphie Tilmitt took the deepest breath of her life and whispered, "I belong with you. I love you so much."

He was looking at her as if he didn't quite believe it, so she said furiously: "So don't you _ever_ go thinking that I'm sick of you, because I'll _never_ be sick of you. 'I'll be your family and you can be mine', right? Ever since we were three years old. I'm remembering the _feeling_, if nothing else_." _She bit her lip. "We're connected, Irvine. I've finally figured it out. And if you ever think I'm sick of you again I will hit you over the head with my _nunchucks._ You - you're all I've got." 

Irvine looked down at her, the culmination of all those years of loneliness washing over him. _Family._ Finally a sense of belonging. One that he could trust.

He hadn't trusted it - and it had hurt them both.

_I belong with you._

He sighed. "Seff." There was so much he could say. "I ...I've loved you since the day I saw you, Sefie. It was just - it's scary. But we'll..." He could almost not finish the sentence. "We'll be together forever. I just know it."

She sighed; she was happy to just rest her head on his shoulder, and he was happy to have it resting there, having dreamed of this culmination for his entire life.

"Selphie," he began, "I have another surprise."

"Oh," she choked, burrowing her head into his shoulder, "don't tell me just yet. I don't think I can take it."

They sat there, on the stage; Irvine gently rocking Selphie, his arms around her; her small arms were wrapped around him as best as she could arrange them. Finally the cowboy said: "It's not another shocker, Selphie, but I want to at least tell you this one myself, alright?"

She looked up at him, wide-eyed.

"Headmaster Shain is going to offer you a position as Head of Trabian Reconstruction tonight, at your Festival. He wants to put you in charge of the whole sha-bang, darlin'. He asked me to talk to you about it; I'm afraid I haven't given you too much time to think, though."

Selphie's eyebrows lifted. "Head of Trabian Reconstruction? Are you serious?"

"Tried and true," he drawled, earning a light smile. "As long as you want it."

"Bloody Ifrit," she whispered. "Me, the Head of - anything?"

Irvine couldn't help it; he laughed.

Selphie giggled at herself as her head returned to Irvine's soft shoulder. _Finally._ The security and strength she had always felt around Irvine had returned.

"So?" he asked, his accent lilting his words. "What are you gonna do?"

And immediately Selphie knew the answer. Lifting her head up so that she could look Irvine in the face, she asked him softly: "What are _you_ gonna do?"

Irvine blinked.

Selphie blushed slightly, but held his gaze. "Don't think I'm going anywhere without you, cowboy," she said, mock sternness in her voice. "If you want to stay here, I'm staying. I'll only go if you'll come and help me." 

She bit her lip. "I can't _do_ it without you, Irvy," she said finally.

  
  
  
  


The evening was cool and brisk in Balamb, the blue sky above that deep and chilling blue that only night could bring. The Garden Festival for Trabia had begun; people were swarming into the great structure, dressed for a party. The Festival itself was a masquerade - Selphie's idea - and so everyone had come in costume. Glitter and sparkles and jewels and bright colors filled the ballroom, along with the soft strains of music and the inevitable murmur of chatter. The room looked fantastic, and there was a feel to the air - other than the cool briskness - that filled the room with a benign sort of energy.

Squall and Rinoa stood with Headmaster Cid and Edea Kramer (who had refrained from dressing up in costume), Rinoa looking as happy as ever and Squall glowering as usual. Rinoa had dressed herself as an angel: a creamy white off-the-shoulder dress with silver trim, complete with a glowing halo and shimmering wings. Part of Squall's glower was probably due to the fact that he was wearing all black with a set of tiny red devil's horns (Rinoa had, obviously, won that argument). Irvine tried his hardest not to laugh as he caught Squall's eye; but the little devil's horns had sequins on them as well, and he failed miserably.

Zell then caught his eye - not that it was hard. He had come as Dracula; a full tuxedo, paired with a silky black cape lined in red, and a top hat and cane. His fake fangs were obviously his favorite part of the costume, since he kept baring them at everyone - including the cute girl from the library, who had come as his date, looking lovely as a mediaeval princess. The princess kept bopping Dracula over the head with her fist, however, and Dracula kept threatening to bite her; which spoiled the effect somewhat, but did nothing to dampen the fun.

And Quistis was there as well, dressed as Shiva; the tall blonde had streaked her hair with blue and donned a dark blue dress with shimmering icy gloves; glittering blue eyeshadow arched above her icy eyes. "Selphie's idea," she said as Irvine approached her. "Do you really think I'd do this to my hair?" He noted that her eyes were tired - probably from the mission that he knew better than to ask about. However, her costume - and her poise - were immaculate as usual.

"You think I thought of this one myself?" Irvine replied warmly, gesturing to his own outfit: Selphie had dressed him as a bandit, using his cowboy's wardrobe to her best advantage and then tying a kerchief over his lower face.

A smirk appeared across Quistis's blue-tinted lips. "You barely had to change your clothes, Irvine."

He shrugged. "Well, her first idea was that I wear my hair down and go as a girl," he confessed; Quistis snorted gracefully. "This was as close as I could get to a victory."

"Speaking of victory," Quistis murmured, "did you see Squall...?"

Irvine burst into laughter, which was all the answer his friend needed.

There was a small commotion at the front stage; the music stopped, and Headmaster Cid appeared at the mike, gesturing for silence.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," he began, "and for those of you from other regions, we welcome you warmly to Balamb Garden." There was a friendly round of applause - mostly from the Balamb cadets - and then Cid raised his hands. "Most of all we welcome our guests from our sister, Trabia Garden, in whose honor the Festival tonight is being held. As you all know, this Festival is not only a time to enjoy ourselves; it has also become a fundraiser. With the proceeds from this Festival we are hoping to help our sister Garden recover her former strength and glory. All the donations we've taken to put on this grand event will be given to Trabia to help her recovery efforts. Our dream is to see Trabia Garden restored to the beauty it once had."

Cid looked around the room. It was full of SeeD cadets from all three Gardens, as well as townsfolk from Balamb and Trabia both who had decided to attend the charity event. He was proud of this place; couldn't be prouder.

"Well, I promised my wife I wouldn't talk too much," he continued, grinning an honest grin. "At this point I would like to give the mike to Trabia's Headmaster, Shain Sheridan, in the hopes that he will say a few words."

Headmaster Shain appeared on stage; he shook Cid's hand warmly and then headed for the microphone. "I apologize for not having a costume," he said, his voice friendly; "things have been hectic at Trabia, as my friends will know." The audience laughed (mostly the girls in the audience, for Shain _was_ looking very handsome in his tux). "I know this isn't much of a disguise, but it was all I could find."

Shain paused, his eyes scanning the audience briefly; he threw a small smile at Irvine and Quistis as he recognized the cowboy, and then continued. "We at Trabia Garden can't even begin to express how grateful we are," he said. "We've received so much help from our brothers and sisters here at Balamb. Since the - the tragedy," he said, his well-controlled voice unshaking, "things at Trabia have been desolate at best. But the constant help and guidance we've received have given us hope, just as this Festival will give us the funds we need to complete our dream. Reconstruction will not be easy, but we are more than grateful for the help we have been lucky enough to receive."

Shain straightened, shifting his weight. "Trabia's destruction was hard on everyone, and our thanks go to all of you for attending tonight. But there is one young woman behind this Festival, one young lady who has given so much of her time and strength to help us, and to her goes most of the credit for this lovely night." Shain extended his hands to the audience. "If I could ask for your help, I would like to give a round of applause to Miss Selphie Tilmitt."

The crowd of students burst out with clapping and cheering and whistling as Selphie walked up the stairs to the stage. She was dressed as a golden butterfly - her dress was long and form-fitting, covered with sparkles, darkening from bright gold into the deep burnt bronze of her hair as it fell to her feet. Great shimmering golden wings spread from her back. About her head she wore a tiny golden crown with two little antennae protruding from her shining hair. She was radiant, glowing like sunshine, her smile beaming down on everyone.

_She looks like a dream,_ Irvine thought, as Quistis said softly: "She looks gorgeous."

Selphie shook hands with Headmaster Shain and then pulled him into an impromptu hug that made the audience laugh over the applause. He clapped her on the back (carefully avoiding the wings) and released her, grinning like a comrade. Selphie stepped up to the microphone, gripping it with both golden-gloved hands.

"Wow," she began, looking out at the smiling faces and the glitter and sparkles and jewels and colors. "I still don't believe that we managed to pull this off. This place looks great, you guys," she added conversationally; there was a light wave of laughter.

Selphie grinned. "I have a lot of thank-yous to give out," she said, "because although Headmaster Shain seems to think otherwise , I had a lot of help with this. First I would like to thank each and every one of you for coming tonight - it's flattering that so many people care enough. You all look wonderful, and you've made the night a success."

"I also need to thank my Festival Committee members," she continued, waving her hand. "There are too many of you to name right now, but I want you all to know that I appreciate all of your help." A couple stray cheers reached the stage, and Selphie threw her hands in the air suddenly in a gesture of victory, screaming "Woo-hoo! We did it! BOOYAKA!"

The auditorium erupted in cheers and catcalls; Irvine raised a hand to cover his face, laughing, as Quistis shook her head with a chuckle.

"We should have expected that," Irvine said, rolling his eyes.

The noise finally died down as Selphie returned her hands to the microphone. "I have one more thank-you to give out," she said, her voice almost soft, and the laughter died down a little. "It's the most important one of all, so I saved it to the end."

All eyes were on her, but she didn't seem to notice. "There is one person who has always stood by me - who has been with me through everything. He's given me the support I need for my crazy ideas, and he always helps me out when I'm stuck or depressed, or both. He's been my family through everything. And although it looks like I'm the one behind all this craziness - " she waved her hand, taking in all the decorations and people and all of Garden's Festival-ness - "it was actually his idea, not mine."

Her eyes landed on his, and she smiled at him, over the heads of hundreds of people, reaching out her hand. "Irvine - thank you. For everything."

He didn't really know what to do except stare; and then he heard Quistis's laughing voice over the cheering that had broken out around them. "Hurry up," she said, her hand on the small of his back, pushing him through the crowd. "She wants you up there, you idiot."

He didn't know how he made it through the crowd, but he did, reaching up to catch Selphie as she slipped off the stage into his arms, radiant in gold and copper shimmer, smiling at him. He held her close, resting his cheek against her soft hair, breathing in her warm scent. _Sunshine and citrus again._

Suddenly struck with an idea, he took off his precious cowboy hat and presented her with it. She carefully tucked it onto her head, settling it atop her little antennae, and grinned up at him with that wonderful impish smile. 

They were both unaware of the crowd around them, applauding and cheering; the music started up, and everyone went back to their dancing and socializing and partying.

All night, people came to congratulate Selphie, to tease Irvine about his part in the Festival. They didn't really notice any of it. Irvine caught glances of the festivities around them: Squall and Rinoa dancing; Quistis talking with Cid and Shain; Zell stealing Edea and dancing around like a monkey as their old Matron laughed; and he saw Lilia, who gave him a wink in greeting. But most of what he saw was contained in glimpses, mere moments, like a single sparkle within the ballroom.

He spent most of the night dancing with Selphie and being happier than he had ever been before.

Recognized - proclaimed - affirmed. The wandering cowboy finally had a place for himself, somewhere he could belong, a family he could belong to. It was a family of one, and it was the closest bond he had ever known.

_It's fate - we're meant to be together._


	21. Twentyone: sincerity

  
  


Chapter Twenty-One

sincerity

  
  
  
  


Irvine lay in the grass outside Balamb Garden_,_ leaning into the cusp of a hill, twirling the black hat around on his index finger. Sunshine pouring down over a green hill, a couple birds, and a breeze in his face - it truly was the only religion he had ever known. Peace seeped in through his pores, soaking into his bones: a sense of belonging. Strength. Love. Sunshine itself was with him, at his side, giving him warmth and comfort.

Selphie shifted her head where it lay on his chest and sighed in her sleep.

Irvine bent his gaze down gently, so as not to wake her, and then turned his eyes back to the sky with a deep chuckle. She looked like a little child, or an angel, curled up in her sleep like that, one arm lying across his chest, fingers crumpled towards her face. The little golden ring on her finger winked at him as the sunlight teased a sparkle out of the shimmering green stone.

The ring had belonged to Irvine's mother.

After Selphie had received the information about her family, after she had sent the case worker in hot pursuit of her brother and sister, she had gone after Irvine's family with a fervor, a passion lit by determination. Little hacker Selphie did it herself, actually; tracing Irvine's name back through Edea and Cid, through his foster family, following the clues until she came up with a birth certificate, and names, and addresses, and dates. Surprisingly enough, his surname had actually been Kinneas; the family that had taken him were some sort of distant relatives, the first Edea could find, distant enough that they had never had anything to tell him about his past, really; most of Irvine's closest and immediate family had all vanished under different names due to a batch of sisters, all of whom had married. Selphie looked down at the copy of the birth certificate she had been mailed for _Irvine M Kinneas_ and couldn't decide whether to be happy or sad.

Selphie had taken him out in the Ragnarok to an old farmhouse, crumbling into ash slowly. Irvine stared, and stared, and finally said softly: "Yes, this was it," and then cried; large, horrible, manly tears. And little Selphie had taken him into her arms and comforted him (though it was difficult, mainly because she was too short to reach him) and told him everything else she had found out. They had cried together for a while, each holding the other tighter than they had held anything in their lives.

And then they had heard voices; the folks from the neighboring farm had seen the huge spaceship and had come to check in an old beat-up pickup truck. They invited Selphie and Irvine back for tea and when they found out who Irvine was they burst out in tears as well. They had been close friends to the Kinneas farm folk; they had been the ones who had pulled young Irvine out of the barn and cared for him until that kind Kramer family had taken him. They had gone back to the Kinneas farm, gotten rid of most of the rubbish, and saved everything that was left; they had been caring for the old crumbling building as much as they could ever since. Irvine went home with a box of his own that day, holding it with shaking hands.

They had gone through it together; a couple books, a set of candlesticks. Some pictures in tarnished frames and broken glass. And in the bottom, a small jewelry box: inside was a pair of cufflinks, a tiny little brooch, and a golden ring set with a bright green stone. Irvine had pinned the brooch to the inside of his cowboy hat.

The next day he had offered Selphie the ring.

Their engagement was, of course, the news of the century. Balamb Garden was in an absolute uproar, as was Trabia, as far away as it happened to be. Everyone had expected Squall and Rinoa to be the first to tie the knot - and so this new engagement from this (relatively) new couple was a shock to many. Selphie and Irvine simply shook hands and received hugs and through it all exchanged secret glances and smiles.

_We're meant to be together,_ the glances said. _I'll be your family and you can be mine._

Everyone was talking eagerly about planning the wedding and the party and figuring out where they could go for their honeymoon. Selphie and Irvine slipped away and went for midnight strolls, or peaceful star-watching nights on the second-floor balcony, or naps in the afternoon sun. Their plans could wait: right now, they were just kids in love, trying to find a way to be happy.

Irvine was set to take his Instructorship exam within the week. The two of them were then heading to Trabia, where they would head up the Reconstruction Committee underneath Headmaster Shain. They would both work and teach until Trabia was functional; Selphie's Festival had turned up some money, yes, but it had been better for publicity. Now that everyone knew about Trabia's plight, donors from all over the world were offering serious cash to the injured Garden. The job would take much less time than they had expected with all the help they were receiving.

And once Trabia had been restored they would be married. The plans after that merely included a return to Balamb, where they could both take permanent Instructorship status and stay with the rest of their friends and family.

Family. Not only the kind related by blood; but the stronger kind, the kind tied together by strings of memories, held by forces of the heart.

For now, Irvine simply stared into the clouds, sunshine on his face and Selphie at his side, thinking about everything and nothing.

_I'm so brilliant._


	22. Obligatory Message from the Loony Bin

  
  


___random notes from your random authoress_

  
  
  
  


Well. This obscenely long story has finally met its end. I want to thank everyone who left me commentary -- especially Noacat, Cherry, Ripley, Briar Eve, Amazonestar, shootinstar, Apple Pie, and whoever the Masked Reviewer is; these are the people who've been with me through the entire damn thing, or most of it - you know I read all those comments, so thanks for reading and leaving notes. 

  
  


The thanks do go to everyone, even those not mentioned here; honestly, the reviews were my motivation for writing this story.

  
  


And that was both good and bad. Though I love this story, I can't say I'm particularly pleased with _all_ of it (although, what author can)? Midway through the story I found myself merely writing, with no real goal plot- or character-wise, in the hopes of simply posting chapters and making my readers happy. Hence, the story seems to get lost at some point (or at least to me); lost in vague half-attempts at plot and conflict that aren't exactly stellar. It gets obvious that I had no real direction in mind - which, for the way I normally write, is a travesty. And I'd apologize for those who were looking for a different story; in a way, so was I, although I admit this one has a certain dinky charm to it.

  
  


Okay, it has more than that; it has Irvine, so it's _gotta_ have charm, right?

  


But really. If it seems that this piece has dragged on forever and then ended suddenly ...well, it has. That's the plan [although that damn internet-less interlude was not intentional, i promise]. Sorry if it seemed rushed; one day I read things over, realized what was happening, and decided to cut it short before I rambled on forever and ever. Not like an endless Irvine story would be bad; but it wasn't what I wanted to write. 

  
  


When I started this piece, my main goals were as such: first, to shed some light into Irvine's character and give him the chance that Square didn't; and second, to write some happy fluffy romantic nonsense about him and Selphie that everyone could be pleased with. I think I met both those goals; this, however, doesn't make me proud of those few certain parts that I'm, er, not proud of.

  
  


The story inadvertently turned out to be as much about Selphie as Irvine; but I found, as I continued to write, that it was impossible to separate the two. Honestly. I couldn't write just about Irvine; he needed Seff, and she needed him. That may have been what turned this story on its ear in the first place - I sure wasn't expecting that, but it made for a sweet interlude and a sweet ending.

  
  


This has to be the silliest and fluffiest thing I've ever written (and I know some parts are bang-all serious, so this should tell you something about my other stuff). In that way, I guess I wrote what I meant to. I'm glad you all enjoyed this - I've received wonderful comments about my characterization and language, and I appreciate the feedback more than I can tell you. My writing style has learned a lot from this piece, especially the first couple chapters, which I think are the shining stars of this bad boy.

  
  


Thanks again for liking this. Please stay tuned (heh) for my next installment, _A Shine Like Gold,_ which picks up where _Sincerity Cowboy_ left off (sort of). I'll also be tossing around some shorter pieces and maybe - if it comes together - a real, after-the-game-actual-story-happening FFVIII fanfic.

  
  


Wouldn't have written all this without you.

Especially this bugger of an author's note.

seventh


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